Blossoming of a Friendship
by I'm Not Your Enemy
Summary: It took a fair amount of courage for Kid Flash to meet up with Robin. Even though he desperately wanted to meet not only another hero his age, but his childhood idol, he didn't particularly want to be mauled to shreds by Batman.
1. Part One

**Blossoming of a Friendship**

**Part One**

_1st November 2008_

Near silence graced the Wayne Manor as the day came ever closer to its end. The sky was darkening, although the hour could still be called reasonably early, and the youngest resident of the large mansion had retired his bedroom accompanied by a book. The book was neither thought-provoking nor thrilling but he read it anyway. Allowing himself to dive into the unique world of a novel always settled his mind before finally falling asleep.

A small ray of light fell across the carpeted floor and slowly widened. Richard Grayson glanced up from his current page as his adoptive father, Bruce Wayne, walked in. Bruce was still clad in his suit from a long day at work. Said long day had been the reason Dick was getting an early night; the other decided that going on patrol tonight would not be beneficial for either of them and the city had been quiet enough lately. This usually meant that either the bad guys had been sufficiently scared into hiding or they were planning something big.

The bed dipped slightly under Bruce's weight as he perched himself on the foot of the younger's bed. Dick had placed his book down and was now looking expectantly to Bruce. He'd said his goodnights a while ago before going to his room and it wasn't often that he was interrupted after that. Generally Bruce only came up to him if he had news or a request of some sort—however, he hardly ever asked him to join him as Batman's protégé after hours, instead taking on the mission alone. Dick had tried to convince him that just because he was falling asleep, that didn't mean he couldn't easily wake up and beat up a few villains. Of course, Bruce heard none of it.

"Dick," he began, effectively pulling the raven-haired boy from his trail of thoughts. "I was wondering if you would like to meet another hero your age."

This peaked Dick's interest. Having been the first official side kick, he'd been inspected by various other heroes and questioned about his abilities. They'd been torn between admiring his determination and scolding Batman for letting someone as young as Robin join him. Batman had faith in his sidekick and partner. Besides, he was always there in case something went wrong, always ready to pull the younger out of a sticky situation if he deemed it to be unreasonably unsafe.

While meeting heroes was not something out of the ordinary for Dick, heroes as young as him were rare to find—at least around Gotham, anyway. The whole sidekick notion had soon caught on but this meant that a hero first had to find someone who was capable of handling themselves but who was also willing to learn. He'd seen a couple of them on the news yet he'd never actually met one. It didn't bug him too much, though. He'd been mature past his years when it came to crime fighting so it wasn't too much of a challenge to keep up with the adult superheroes. But once in a while, he wished he had someone his own age to laugh with. He was only able to be his true self at home but Robin was a more accurate depiction of the real Richard Grayson than the snobby rich kid he had to pretend to be at school. Batman had made it very clear to him that no one should be able to connect the dots and figure out Robin's secret identity. To do this, he had to convince the world that he was someone he truly wasn't. He didn't go _too _far with the act; just enough so that any arising suspicion would be settled. Besides, Dick Grayson didn't know how to fight. Most people knew that he'd opted to take dance instead of martial arts, and pirouettes would not come in useful when fighting the bad guys.

"Yeah, I would," Dick replied, a small smile settling on his lips.

Bruce gave a small nod and stood once again. He was glad Dick had agreed. Anyone who knew him would know that he was fiercely protective of his son but he worried about him too. Obviously he rarely voiced these worries out loud and when he did, it was only to Alfred. He knew the boy was stronger than many others his age but he was unsure of whether his training and duties as Robin left him with sufficient time and energy for work and socialising. He knew Dick could be witty and charming but he'd never particularly been fond of his 'friends' at school. Bruce hoped that by introducing him to another sidekick, he'd be able to have someone to connect to and talk to about things he couldn't with his schoolmates. Bruce wasn't entirely sure that he should be putting so much trust into a child he'd never met to make Robin feel welcome, but he would go along with it for Dick. Besides, if things went badly then he could always forbid Kid Flash from seeing Robin again. Perhaps a threat or two would be required.

"I can arrange a meeting with Flash later in the week. For now, just get some rest. We're on patrol tomorrow."

Dick assumed it would be Kid Flash he was meeting. He'd seen the redheaded boy briefly on TV and had been impressed by his powers. Unlike Dick, he actually had a special ability that separated him from non-powered humans—his speed. Of course, that was to be expected, with him being Flash's sidekick and all, but Dick had been impressed by just _how _fast he was. From what he'd gathered, the boy was clumsy at best but his speed was only rivalled by the Flash himself.

"Okay. Good night, Bruce." The man slipped silently out of the room. Dick placed his bookmark in his forgotten book and set it aside, leaning over to turn his bedside lamp off.

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_2nd November 2008_

Wally had been improving amazingly since Barry had agreed to train more often. They first journeyed to a disused race track and began warm-ups. Usually there was a set structure to their training but today Barry just wanted to see how truly fast his sidekick could go. He'd stepped aside and cleared the track for Wally before instructing him to simply run until he couldn't go any faster. He watched as the boy complied with his command and the results were dizzying.

Keeping an eye on the yellow and red blur around the track proved to be somewhat of a challenge. Barry caught brief sounds of laughter as the wind caused by the running blew dust and dirt into Barry's partially shielded face. Eventually, the blur slowed down and Wally emerged again, his chest rising and falling as he heaved for air.

"How was that?" he asked, his signature grin forming on his lips.

"You did great, Kid," Barry replied, moving towards the younger and ruffling his hair affectionately. This earned him another loud laugh.

They walked towards a patch of ground where they'd dumped their stuff and sat down. Flash handed Kid Flash a cereal bar and watched as the other practically devoured it.

"Kid, you know Batman, right?"

Wally glanced up at his mentor and nodded. "Not personally, but yeah."

"So you know Robin too." Wally nodded once again. The young boy had been the final push Wally needed to finally becoming Flash's sidekick. He'd heard of heroes training younger people but actually fighting with them was a different matter entirely. "Great, then I guess you won't mind meeting them."

Wally froze in his eating. Sure, meeting Robin would be really cool but Batman was… _Batman._ Photos of him were intimidating enough. "Erm, I'm not so sure about that."

Flash clapped him on the back. "Don't worry about Bats. His bark is worse than his bi—well, it is when you're the good guy. Besides, he agreed to let you meet his baby bird. Do you have any idea how much of a privilege this is?"

The redhead gave a small shrug. He'd heard about how overprotective Batman was when he overheard Flash's conversations on the phone. "I guess meeting him won't be so bad. I mean, you'll protect me if Batman tries to kill me for talking to him, right?"

Barry flashed his teeth in a large grin. "'Course I will, kiddo. Can't have him shredding up my protégé, can I?"

This didn't really fill Wally with too much hope.

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_7th November 2008_

Wally, when nervous, often fidgeted so much that his hands started vibrating. He'd thought that they would be the last ones at the meet up point but it turned out that he was wrong. He and Flash, clad in their spandex and cowls, were waiting semi-patiently for the others. Flash had explained to him that life in Gotham was very different and far more dangerous. Villains practically lurked around every corner so Batman's patrols were usually a lot busier than theirs. However, this did nothing to settle Kid Flash's mind. The waiting was practically torture for him.

He's always been an impatient child but upon becoming a speedster and a sidekick, his impatience had simply grown. He always wanted to be moving and running and free but obviously life had different expectations of him. Nearly every day he was forced to sit still and pay attention to whoever had the misfortune of dealing with his class for the lesson. Flash understood completely but he'd grown out of the unbearable sensation suffered while waiting. He now took it as a chance to simply be free and let his mind whirr as fast as it wanted to.

The vibrating child beside him suddenly let out a huff, his breath condensing in the cold air. True, they'd been waiting but it was only for about ten minutes or so. Batman was hardly ever late by much so he expected he would be arriving soon. He hoped he wouldn't intimidate his sidekick _too _much. After all, it was Wally who was doing him the favour. He'd been the one to request a meet up and Wally had, albeit reluctantly, agreed. However, underneath the impatience and the nervousness, Flash knew Kid Flash was excited. His first time meeting the Boy Wonder was certainly something of an occasion. Robin had gained the country's curiosity as he cartwheeled and flipped his way through various master-villains without as much as a bruise. Of course, Flash knew Batman would never let his sidekick fight if he knew he could not handle it so he must have trained him well. Or perhaps he was already trained, Flash didn't know.

"Ah, hello Bats," Flash greeted, smiling to the Caped Crusader.

Wally jumped slightly as the shadows seemed to part and a figure stepped forwards. They'd agreed to meet on the rooftop of an old comic store; the large buildings surrounding the smaller created shadows nearly everywhere so they were concealed well. Plus Barry thought it was slightly amusing that they'd chosen this place to meet but he doubted Batman saw the humour in it.

"Flash," he replied with a nod. His eyes flicked from Flash, to Kid Flash, and then back. Wally's eyes were fixed on his large form, slightly disbelieving. He wasn't as tall as Wally thought he would be but the aura of intimidation was certainly still there. "Kid Flash."

Wally was pulled from his thoughts as he gave Batman an almost hesitant smile. "Er, hi."

He was slightly puzzled by the fact that Robin was nowhere in sight but soon enough, a soft cackle was heard as a smaller form jumped down from a higher rooftop. He landed with elegance next to Batman. He was shorter than Wally and he guessed his age to be about ten or eleven; Wally was only thirteen but he was tall for his age anyway. Lean muscles coated his form and he was quite thin. He seemed less uptight than his mentor as he grinned to Wally and held out a hand.

"Hi, I'm Robin."

Wally took the hand, mirroring the grin. "Kid Flash."

The younger released his hand and turned to Batman. "The police got him and I think they said the trial won't last long," he informed him in a quiet voice. Batman gave a nod and turned to the Flash.

"Shall we be going? I believe _their_ plan starts tonight," he asked. Wally sent a curious glance up to Flash, not quite understanding what the man was talking about.

"Sure. Kid, stay with Robin and do whatever. Fight some crime, take a tour of the city, have a night off, whatever. Just be back home by midnight, 'kay?" Kid Flash nodded and made a mental note to not to lose track of time. He didn't want to get shouted at by his mother again for not being home in time.

When he turned to ask Batman where they were going, he was surprised to find that he was gone, as if he'd vanished into thin air. Robin, however, seemed undeterred by his mentor's silent disappearance. He'd heard Flash take off and felt the gentle gust of wind he left in his trail.

Robin's masked eyes turned to him expectantly. Wally wondered momentarily how he was able to see. The domino mask had white eyes and Wally highly doubted Robin himself had white eyes. Perhaps it was merely an intelligent design from Batman. He'd seen some of his equipment in action and had dedicated quite a while to figuring out how the mechanics of his stuff worked. It was safe to say that he didn't get very far.

"So… What do you wanna do?"

Wally was going to reply with a small shrug when he realised that he was the guest here so he should probably make the decision. "How about a tour? I've never been here and I'm sure we can get around pretty easily with my speed and your… thing."

"Grappling hook?" Robin supplied. Kid nodded with a smile. "Sounds good." He plucked the instrument from his utility belt and looked up to the other. "Thanks for coming, by the way. I know Bats can be scary and stuff but I appreciate it."

"No problem," Kid Flash replied, slinging an arm around the younger's shoulders. "I've always wanted to meet a hero my age, anyway. Meeting all the big names gets a little overwhelming at times." Robin gave a light snicker at the word but didn't explain. "I'm glad I'm not the only kid."

"I know what you mean. I can't exactly express how hard it is maintaining decent grades and a good hero career to Superman, can I?"

Wally's jaw dropped. "You've met _Superman_?"

Had Robin's eyes been unmasked, Wally would've seen him roll them. "Come on. I know a place where we can get an amazing view."

* * *

_AN: May or may not continue this. Thoughts?_


	2. Part Two

**Blossoming of a Friendship**

**Part Two**

_8th November 2008_

The rain fell hard against the window as Wally watched the drops on the glass manoeuvre their way downwards. The brick wall of the building opposite him was splattered in a haphazard fashion, leaving only a few small areas dry. It hadn't rained this badly for a while. Wally had never been fond of the rain; he was more of a summer guy. The rain was really not fun to run in, especially at full speed. Besides, he still had issues with skidding and stopping on wet surfaces—he'd have to ask Barry about that. Perhaps he'd swing by his aunt's place before school sometime. He knew it wasn't official, but he could practically hear the wedding bells ringing.

There was an element of irony, he supposed, that he always managed to think of things to ask Barry whenever the man wasn't there. Then, when he finally did catch up to him, he'd have no idea whatsoever about what he wanted to ask the man. It was like having an awesome idea just before you go to bed; no matter how hard you try, you won't be able to remember it in the morning.

With a soft sigh, he paused to watch his breath condense on the window before turning around and moving to sit on his bed. The adrenaline of the night had worn off a while ago but his mind was still whirring. It had begun to slow and as it did, his eyelids became heavier. His parents hadn't noticed his return home. Usually his mother waited up for him but he'd been a bit late getting home tonight—and by 'a bit late', he meant two hours. He didn't blame her; even for the weekend, two in the morning was too late for her.

He ran a hand through his hair, causing it to look more dishevelled than it had previously. Even though he'd spent a while picking the bugs from his hair, he still refused to wear a cowl. This decision probably slowed him down due to air resistance or aerodynamics or something, not that he particularly cared. He may not have been as fast as the Flash, but he certainly gave him a run for his money—if you'll pardon the pun.

After stifling a large yawn, Wally crawled into bed and flicked his bedside lamp off. He really needed to recharge.

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"_So you just jump from rooftop to rooftop?" Wally questioned, running beside the Boy Wonder. _

_Robin nodded and grinned to him. "Not all of us can run at the speed of light."_

"_Well, I'm not quite that fast yet."_

_They slowed as they began approaching the park. They were hidden in the shadows but they still didn't want to be spotted. The evening so far had consisted of stopping a few minor criminals whilst also going on their grand tour of Gotham. The sights from the rooftops were truly spectacular as they highlighted Gotham's best and brightest features while allowing the observer to conveniently forget about the darker areas. Neither were fooled, of course. Robin knew the streets better than most and Wally had heard about Gotham and had subsequently been warned against going there unaccompanied at night. Well, the people who'd warned him knew nothing of his alter-ego or about how he could easily defend himself so he chose not to heed their advice._

_They hopped down from the current building they were standing on and landed in a side street. A quick scan of their surroundings informed them that there were no rapists or muggers lurking about, so there was little to be done. The main buildings of Gotham had already been pointed out to Wally—Wayne Tower, Town Hall, the courtroom, police station, and so on. Despite the fact that Gotham was a very large city, their ways of getting around made the tour last only a few short hours. Midnight would soon be creeping up on them which meant so would their curfew. Robin didn't have a specific curfew tonight, but he knew Bruce wouldn't want him back too late._

"_Come on, let's go sit by the tree," Robin said, tugging on Kid Flash's arm. Considering there were many trees around, Wally had no idea which one the other was referring to so had to trail behind him as he manoeuvred their way through the shadows. A large oak tree was situated to the right of the park; it looked old and mistreated but the carvings in the trunk showed signs that love and friendship could actually survive in a place like Gotham. Kid Flash followed Robin's lead and sat, albeit less elegantly than the other did. The redhead simply flopped onto the ground, stretching his legs ahead of him whereas Robin sat cross-legged, making sure not to sit on his cape. The way he held it up reminded Wally of a girl trying not to crease her skirt and he gave a loud snort at the thought. _

"_Something funny?"_

_Kid Flash shrugged. "Yeah, but you'd probably break my arm or something if I told you." A brief silence passed across the space between them as Kid pondered on whether or not he should ask the question that had been tugging at his mind all night. He would've asked it a while ago but he didn't know if Robin would be insulted by it. Wally wasn't exactly the best when it came to tact__. "So, do you, like, _have_ any superpowers?" _

_Robin shook his head. "No, don't need them. I've got training and all of this," he replied, indicating to his utility belt._

"_And all the flips and stuff," Wally added._

"_It's called acrobatics but yeah, and all the flips and stuff," he repeated. He saw Kid Flash open his mouth again but cut him off before he spoke. "Before you ask, lots of practice."_

"_You know, I should probably be concerned that you defy the laws of gravity so easily but I'm not," said Kid, earning him a laugh from the Boy Wonder._

_There's a theory that floats around that says 'time goes faster when you're having fun'. This, in fact, is wrong. Time is a continuous constant and does not alter. It could be possible for someone to travel through time but it is not possible to speed it up or slow it down. The thing that changes is an individual's perception of time. For example, a five year old's perception of a day would be much slower than a fifty year old's since a day is a larger portion of a five year old's life. Change the setting, however, and give the five year old something to occupy themselves with, then time appears to speed up. This is merely because one becomes so wrapped up in their activities that they do not check the time as often as they would had they been doing nothing. This leads to them not noticing that time is passing, so time consequently appears to 'fly'. _

_All of this is an unnecessarily __long explanation as to why Wallace__ West was very late home. You see, Wally likes to talk. He talks to anyone about anything, even if they aren't particularly interested or just want him to shut up more than anything. __It's beneficial for the both of them is the person is interested in what Wally had__ to say and w__ould__ even join in with the conversation. Obviously, a typical conversation has no defined topic nor a defined end. One subject threads into another and eventually both parties just say whatever comes to mind. They become comfortable in each other's presence and end up not worrying about what __either__ think__s__ of their opinions._

_By the time Robin called up his wrist computer to check for any updates from Batman, he paled once he saw the time. He knew Bruce wasn't someone who would ground him or make him do extra chores as punishment for being late home, but he also knew that he would have an extra hard training session later that morning after only a few hours' sleep. _

"_Er, Kid Flash? We kind of need to go." He turned so the other could see the virtual clock face displayed in mid-air._

"_Oh, crap! How did that happen?!" Kid exclaimed, jumping to his feet. He made an odd motion as if his body had decided to run but his mind wanted him to stay. He offered a hand to Robin and pulled him up. He was about to ask if the boy wanted a lift home before remembering about how strict Batman was about their secret identities. He doubted the Caped Crusader would be too pleased if Robin told Wally where he lived. Speaking of secret identities… "I'm Wally," he said, grinning to the shorter. "Wally West."_

_A smirk pulled at Robin's lips as he replied, "I know." Wally, whose brows had furrowed and was now staring at him in confusion, became more astonished when it seemed like Robin had disappeared into thin air. First he was there, then Wally had blinked, and then there was no one else around._

"_How did he…?" Of course, this was to be the first of many 'ninja' disappearances from his friend._

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If Dick had learnt anything that night, it was that the schools in Central City really needed to upgrade their database security. He'd expected to be able to get into the system but not _that _easily. It would've been quite a concern if he hadn't had other things on his mind.

He scrolled through the list of seemingly endless students briefly before doing a quick search under 'West'. Wally was at the bottom of the narrowed down list, smiling goofily ahead. His records held nothing Dick didn't already know on them. He knew his name, where he lived, and which school he went to. He supposed that kind of made him sound like a stalker but he knew that much information about all of the superheroes and the sidekicks—well, the ones who could be found using the Batcave's database, which was _nearly_ all of them. Bruce had said something to Dick a while ago about how it was important to not only know about your enemies, but about your allies too. No one knew what could happen so it was useful knowing the basics about Earth's mightiest heroes.

Dick turned in his seat as the door opened, revealing the frail but confident form of Alfred Pennyworth. He held a tray in his hands with a steaming mug settled in the middle. "Master Dick, is it not time for bed?"

The boy closed his laptop and then stood, walking over to Alfred and taking the drink. "I was just about to go. I had a few things to do first." He took a sip of the hot chocolate before emitted a soft hiss as it scalded his lips and tongue.

"Careful, Master Dick. It's hot."

Dick looked up to Alfred and rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the warning." He placed the mug on his bedside table before turning back to the man. "Good night, Alfred. Tell Bruce to go to bed if he's still up."

He gave Dick a soft smile. "You know he won't listen to me. He's very busy and apparently sleep isn't as important as work. But nevertheless, I shall try." He walked back over to the door and glanced back just before he closed it. "Sweet dreams, Master Dick."

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_A/N: Okay, I planned on updating sooner and I have no real excuse for not doing so. Basically, I procrastinate from activities that I generally use to procrastinate, i.e. I was being lazy and started doing things that involved less effort. Something good came out of it, though: I finally caught up on YJ :D_


	3. Part Three

**Blossoming of a Friendship**

**Part 3**

_3rd January 2009_

The thing about living in a mansion was that no matter how many people resided in the building or how many were visiting, it always felt empty and cold. Dick wondered whether that was simply because of the history and the ghosts of the past that still haunted the hallways. Perhaps it would've been different when Bruce was a child, when his parents were still alive. He didn't ask about them very much—he knew it was a sensitive subject—but from what he'd heard before, Bruce had loved his parents dearly. In fact, he still did. His ways of moving on were odd at the least; Dick was pretty sure most people didn't mourn by becoming a masked vigilante. But in a way, he was grateful for Bruce's ways. He couldn't imagine where he'd be if Bruce hadn't picked up the orphaned acrobat.

The coldness of the mansion had been heightened recently. Over two months had passed since Dick's first meeting with Wally and the chilly winds had turned into blustering blizzards and frozen streets. During that time, it had been Wally's birthday—his fourteenth to be exact. Dick had debated for a while on whether or not he should get his friend a gift; there was a lot to take into consideration. Had they know each other for long enough? Probably not, but they _had _clicked during their times together. What should he get him? Something personal would be weird. He knew Wally's not-so-secret identity but something related to his hero career would be more fitting. And how would he get the gift to him? He'd be spotted if he went out as Dick Grayson and besides, he wasn't going near Central City so it was a bit out of his way. Eventually he settled for sending the gift to Wally, making sure it arrived on the morning of his birthday. He was unsure at first but he figured that Wally probably already knew that Dick—_Robin_—knew quite a bit about him, including his address. The next time he'd met up with the speedster, he'd received a high speed tackle-hug. Admittedly it hadn't been the most comfortable of experiences, but it was nice to know that his gift was appreciated. Kid Flash had even been wearing his goggles that day. He'd been wearing his old pair before but his new ones were custom made, complete with infrared and night vision. He'd spent a while annoying Robin by switching through the modes, laughing at the scowling bird.

Dick laughed too at the memory. He liked getting people things that actually meant something to them. He had access to a large portion of Bruce's money but that didn't mean he liked to spend it pointlessly. He could've easily bought Wally a private jet or a sports car, but he disliked showing his fortune—well, Bruce's fortune. He was thankful for the financial security but he did like to indulge in the normal life as much as he could, even if it meant going to fast food restaurants with his friends. Oh, how the paparazzi had gone wild that day.

As Dick scrawled down the final answer of his maths homework, Alfred entered the library. It was dimly lit and lined to the ceiling with books of various thicknesses. Dick was sat at one of the desks, a few papers and books scattered around him. It seemed as if his teachers' New Year resolutions had been to give him more homework than ever.

"Master Bruce wishes to—"

"—See me," Dick finished, having been told this many times before. He chuckled softly at the smile that pulled at Alfred's lips as he gave a nod to the boy.

"Indeed. I believe you'll find him in the Batcave." He then bowed slightly before exiting, glancing back momentarily to check that Dick would actually go to see his adoptive father.

With the papers stacked and the books returned to their rightful places, Dick exited the library, clicking the door shut behind him. His mind whirred as he made his way down to the cave, wondering what Bruce would need to interrupt his studies for. It probably wouldn't be patrol or that kind of emergency; most of the villains saved their tricks for later in the year and spent the first couple of weeks planning their next big move. It was almost as if the heroes were given a short break for the holiday.

When he arrived in the Batcave, he wasn't too surprised to see that Bruce was wearing his costume, albeit missing his cowl. The man, no matter how much Dick assured him that the city would be safe for one night, still persevered and went on patrol each and every night, regardless of the fact that he could easily slip on the icy rooftops and fall to his death. Gotham needed protecting and Batman was its protector, as he'd been told many times.

"Alfred said you wanted to see me," was Dick's way of announcing his presence to the cave. He highly doubted that he could actually sneak up on his mentor but it was best to say he was here; his footsteps, even along the cold stone floor, were quiet and hardly there—a skill he'd picked up through training.

Bruce's gaze flicked from the large computer screen to Dick for a moment as he finished up the scans of what looked like another of Ivy's plants. "Indeed I do. I'm hosting a ball in a few days, the first science gathering of the year. Most of the country's largest cities are sending people to represent their scientific corporations. I even invited a few personally."

Dick walked up to the main controls, leaning against them. "I'm going too, aren't I?" he asked, sounding a little disappointed. He'd never been too fond of high end events such as this. He wasn't born into fame and riches and they seemed to judge him endlessly for that.

"Yes, but that's not why I needed to talk to you. I know you can behave in the proper manner." He typed a few more digits into the scanner as it broke down the last of the plant. He then turned to Dick and continued, "I've invited Barry Allen; he's quite a good scientist down at the Central Police Department, and I have a feeling he's going to bring Wally with him."

"That's probably just so he can get into Iris's good books or something," Dick joked, earning a slight twitch of the lips from Bruce.

"Probably, but you're going to have to avoid him. It's highly unlikely that you'll run into him but it's best to play it safe."

Dick nodded and replied, "I know. Besides, I act different when I'm 'Richard'," he said the name in distaste, "opposed to Robin. He won't notice. He'll probably be too caught up being nerdy with all the professors."

He left the cave soon after the conversation ended; it was getting late anyway. He wasn't too worried about Wally recognising him. As he'd stated, Richard was an entirely different persona to Robin. Of course, Richard only came out when faced with events filled with people who liked to go on about their achievements and fortunes. They were the same kind of people who liked to insult the people around them while putting on a false pretence in order to maintain their social standing. Dick turned into Richard at this point, since people like this never used his preferred name. Even at school people called him 'Dick', although that was mainly because he was Bruce Wayne's son and could just about get anyone at school to do whatever he wanted. The only time he was his true self was when he was hidden away in the Wayne mansion or as Robin. As Robin, he was free to do or say what he liked, no longer restricted by the knowledge that whatever he did could affect Bruce's reputation. As Robin, he could leap from buildings and figure out how he was going to land on the way; he could taunt the bad guys with his never ending word play; he could disappear at the blink of an eye, a distant cackle the only evidence he'd ever been there in the first place. As Richard or Dick, he had to act differently just so people wouldn't connect him to Robin. After all, how could a sophisticated, albeit slightly rebellious, rich kid be the famous Boy Wonder?

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_5th January 2009_

Before heading to school, Wally liked to stop off by his aunt's house. She always told him not to bother and that he could always say hi after school, but then again, she was unaware of how little time it took the speedster to get from her place to school. He'd begged Barry to let him just tell her about Kid Flash, but Barry said she wasn't ready yet. Besides, he didn't want to put her in danger. Wally understood that, of course—he didn't want to put Iris in danger either—but he felt bad about constantly lying to her, even if she'd never picked up on it. After a while they came to a deal: Barry would tell her once they got married. _If _they got married.

Wally kept his thoughts about there not being any 'if' to himself. They'd come together in their own time; he was sure of it.

To say he was surprised to find his aunt and Barry sitting at the breakfast table, discussing something in quick, hushed voices, was an understatement. It was like the feeling you get when you walk into a room and all conversation dies, only causing you to be paranoid that they were previously talking about you. Eventually their whispers faded away and they turn to him, observing his increasingly deepening frown. After taking a moment or two to realise that they were expecting him to say something, Wally cocked an eyebrow.

"Anyone wanna tell me what's going on?"

Barry released a long sigh and then stood, looking as if he was about to be sentenced for death. "I think, perhaps, it's easier if you read this," he stated, handing Wally an envelope made of expensive-looking paper.

His eyes scanned over the words printed on the paper inside the envelope, and they increased in size until he looked like a shocked deer. His glanced up from the letter, to Barry, and the back again. "But—this—we—are you serious?! Can I—I mean, if you're not taking—"

Barry grimaced and nodded. Iris sounded, "We thought it might be more beneficial for you to go."

A large, slow grin formed on Wally's lips as the words sunk in. He hadn't thought he'd been dreaming before now.

Before he knew it, he'd embraced Barry in an overly-tight hug, dozens of 'thank you, thank you, thank you's spilling out of his mouth in an almost never ending stream. "But why'd you look so… grimace-y?" he asked, blinking up to the man.

"Because, Wally," Barry wheezed, "I-I can't breathe!"

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_8th January 2009_

Wally fiddled with his tie for the thirteenth time that hour; it was so uncomfortable. He felt restricted in the suit and had he known he would've had to wear it, he probably would've given more thought about coming. Then again, that was before he entered the Wayne Manor.

He wasn't completely oblivious to the news—in fact, he had to catch up on it every day like it was superhero homework. He knew the balls Bruce Wayne threw were very prestigious and practically legendary; it was as if you were walking into the latest edition of _Who's Who. _Wally never, not even in his wildest dreams, imagined he'd be attending one. He'd never really thought about what it would be like to attend a ball before; it just seemed far too out of his league.

Oh, how right he had been.

He didn't think he could've felt any more awkward until he'd been faced with a hall of people. He made sure to stick close by Barry although the man was already beginning to busy himself by talking to some cranky old guys—who, he found out later, were incredibly influential members of many colleges across the country. He followed all of Barry's instructions, reciting them in his head as the evening progressed.

_Smile, greet people, stay by Barry, introduce yourself, laugh, comment on their achievements when they start talking, nod, look interested, try not to freak out._

By the time about an hour or so had passed, Wally had fallen into an odd sort of routine. He wasn't the only young person there—a few others were scattered about—but he seemed to be attracting the wives of the cranky old guys. They practically pinched his cheeks and cooed over how 'adorable' he looked in his suit. After a while, Wally began to play this to his advantage. The cranky old guys would stick around, waiting for their wives to finish, and during that time Wally would comment on some scientific thing, something he thought would grab their attention, and then the cranky old guys would realise he was here for a reason. Barry knew Wally was enthusiastic about science, even if his clumsy ways didn't display that all the time. It was far too much for him to expect to have a conversation about the latest discovery in particle physics but sometimes he and the cranky old guys would throw about comments, each sounding more intelligent than the last. Wally hoped he was making some form of an impression; it couldn't exactly hurt any future education choices if he got a word in early. Every now and then he would look over to Barry, who would reply silently with an encouraging smile. He wanted Wally to do well in life so providing him with opportunities such as this weren't just to score brownie points with Iris.

"How old are you, Wally?" the woman in the shimmery white dress asked in a patronising voice, her grey hair falling away from her eyes as she tilted her head. "Twelve? Thirteen?"

"Actually, I'm—"

"Oh, you simply must meet Richard; he's absolutely delightful!" she exclaimed suddenly, handing her champagne glass over to her husband and indicating for Wally to follow her. She craned her neck and Wally snickered as he thought that she looked like some kind of pampered giraffe. She beamed at him, evidently misunderstanding his laugh, and began to walk off. Wally could only assume that he was supposed to follow.

She stopped by a young boy, only a few years younger than Wally by the looks of it, and tapped on his shoulder. He turned and smiled to her, accepting her embrace as she pressed a light kiss to each of his cheeks. Wally noted that his eyes were blue, but not a regular blue, a piercing blue. The boy—Richard, he guessed—looked over to Wally and the speedster could've sworn he saw him pale slightly.

"I'm so sorry, Miranda. I think Bruce needs to see me," he said, excusing himself and slipping away within the second. Huh, that seemed familiar.

The woman, Miranda, apparently, sent an apologetic smile to Wally. That's all these people seemed to be—smiles and money. "Please excuse Richard, his father often has him running around at events such as these. I'm sure you'll meet him at other balls." She then eyed Wally, taking in his appearance. "Or perhaps not."

He didn't know why, but he felt incredibly insulted.

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Bruce stood among several other men, chatting away about something he didn't particularly care about, with a woman draped across his arm. She was the typical type Bruce picked up at events like these; her dress was classy enough so that she could fit in but displayed enough of her skin to make her intentions very clear. She giggled at the appropriate moments and smiled to Bruce in a way that could fool anyone into thinking she'd known him for years, but Dick wasn't too fond of the way she practically leered over him as he approached. Bruce tugged on her arm gently, sending her a warning glare, and Dick could almost see her physically back away.

Bruce placed a hand on Dick's shoulder, disentangling himself from the woman so he could steer him a little away from the crowd. "Yes?"

"Your speech is up soon. I just thought I'd better remind you in case you lost track of time or something."

"I don't lose track of time," Bruce replied simply. As he began to walk away, Dick reached out, tugging slightly on the sleeve of his jacket. Bruce glanced to him curiously but Dick merely nodded his head to the side, walking further away from prying eyes.

"I read over the files in the Batcave," he murmured. "There's a reason you invited Barry Allen, aside from his scientific abilities, isn't there?"

Casting a wary eye to their surroundings, Bruce gave a small nod. "Yes. I'm not sure who or what's coming but we need to be prepared."

"And Wally?" the younger questioned.

Bruce paused for a moment before deciding on his answer. "Extra security."

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_A/N: Yeah,__ this is probably gonna be a monthly update kind of schedule. Don't hold me to that, though._


	4. Part Four

**Blossoming of a Friendship**

**Part Four**

_8th January 2009_

Dick supposed he really ought to have paid attention to Bruce's speech. Then again, to anyone in the crowd who was watching him instead of his adoptive father, he would appear to be very attentive and focusing wholly on what the man was saying. The truth was far from it. Having been forced to go to these balls and galas for the past three years, Dick had managed to perfect the look that made him seem as if he was intensely interested in whatever was being said, when in reality he was hidden deep within his thoughts. It's not like he could help it; these things were always so dull. He'd tried to get Bruce to excuse him from them but it was necessary if he was to be accepted in Gotham's high society. Perhaps he'd finally be able to use excess school work as an excuse in a couple of years.

He had a lot to think over; a short while ago he'd made Bruce tell him all he knew, or at least all he could get out of the man. It wouldn't do either of them any good if Dick was left in the dark. He'd noticed the message that had appeared on the Batcave computer screen on his last visit down there. After translating it'd read 'I'd hate to crash the party'. Dick had been confused as to why the pop-up box was there but Bruce explained that as he'd been processing the latest of Poison Ivy's plants, something within the material of it had triggered the message to appear. He was still currently investigating as to how exactly that was possible—he assumed Ivy had purposely manipulated the plant's biological data— but it didn't take a genius to figure out the meaning behind it. Dick had jumped straight to the obvious conclusion that she was planning to attack and, for some reason, had given them forewarning. Bruce told him to keep an open mind, though. She could've merely been the messenger or it could've all been a ploy to keep the Dynamic Duo from the scene of the real crime. It wouldn't have made much difference, though; it would be highly suspicious if Bruce Wayne wasn't at his own party while a caped menace ran about through Gotham. But apparently Alfred was covering things; he was keeping up with police radio transmissions and had believable excuses ready lest Bruce and Dick needed to make a hasty getaway.

At least now he could see why a villain would want to make an untimely appearance at the ball; there were many rich and powerful people here, and certainly a fair share of brilliant minds. He'd overheard many discussions about new projects and Dick could imagine that any villain would love to get their hands on the scientists' toys. Any one of them could be manipulated and broken. A genius with good intentions could be a benefit to humanity but a genius in the hands of a sadistic villain could mean destruction globally. Dick was fairly sure that over a dozen or so people in here knew how to make a nuclear bomb using no more than scraps—not something he'd be keen to put into practice.

A sudden round of applause dragged him out of his thoughts and a hand on his shoulder made him glance up. Bruce had previously been standing further up the main staircase with Dick standing lower down. Now, however, they were both stood at the same level, looking out to the crowd.

Once the applause had quietened down, Bruce said, "My son and I hope you enjoy the remainder of your evening and wish you a safe journey home." Dick's brows furrowed minutely at that; it wasn't often that Bruce referred to him as his son. Usually it was his ward. But, of course, most of this was for show. He supposed many people thought they knew the real Bruce Wayne—the playboy, the peculiar billionaire. In fact, they probably spent more time with him than Dick did. He knew Bruce's lifestyle meant he was away for extended periods of time and that their routines hardly ever coincided. That, obviously, all changed as soon as they donned their costumes. As Batman and Robin, there were no more façades; it was just them against the world.

Although Dick had paid little to no attention to the speech, he could easily guess what it had consisted of. Many praises for those who had succeeded particularly well last year, a few 'thank you's to the organisations that had made a difference, and a hope that they would continue to help the scientific community evolve, regardless of their field. As they descended the staircase, a small flock of middle-aged, professional looking people swarmed to Bruce. Some were polite and almost hesitant while others boasted arrogantly. Bruce's polite front remained despite the sudden onslaught of people and he excused himself from the crowd courteously. A smaller group of people tagged along despite his excuse, chattering amongst themselves and to him. Dick trailed beside Bruce, glancing back to the parted crowd behind him. He didn't notice when they stopped but he vaguely recognised the people Bruce was now talking to—and by 'vaguely' he meant he knew exactly who they were and what they'd accomplished due to his many hours revising and memorising the guest list. People liked to feel important, as if they were known, and it would be rude of Dick not to know who was attending. At least, that was what he'd been told countless times.

Most of the conversations around him simply blurred together into a noise he could easily block out. He did keep half a mind on his surroundings though; partially because of the attacks but also because people liked to randomly pull him into their discussion. None of them seemed particularly thrilling but something a man next to Bruce had said captured his attention.

"Oh, Mr Wayne, you've done a fabulous job with the exterior of the manor," he said, practically gushing. He seemed to be around thirty years old; his dark brown hair gelled down so not a single hair was out of place. His attire aged him slightly and looked as if it'd been a long time since he'd spent time around younger people or even people his age. At Bruce's questioning gaze, he continued, "I'm referring to the vines along the side of the walls outside. It's a very rare type—incredibly difficult to look after in a place like Gotham."

Bruce's eyes flickered away from him and shared a knowing gaze with Dick. Coincidences rarely happened and this was not one to be believed. "I'm afraid I can't comment much on them. You should talk to Alfred; he takes care of the grounds."

Bruce and Dick shared a bond where speaking wasn't strictly necessary. This applied both in costume and out. Due to the sheer amount of time spent working and training together, Dick could tell what the other needed him to do without having to voice it. Obviously it was quite helpful in situations where the true context of the order couldn't be spoken around others. The boy excused himself quietly before slipping away from the gaggle of people. He was sure they'd be leaving soon enough, but hopefully before an unidentified villain maybe showed up.

None of the waiters or waitresses hired for the occasion questioned Dick as he made his way down a flight of stairs and towards the kitchens; they all recognised him and gave him false smiles but avoided his eyes. It was as if they were scared of him. But it wasn't _him _they were intimidated by, it was Bruce. Dick was merely the poor orphaned acrobat who just happened to be picked up by the billionaire. At least he managed to score pity points.

He returned a few of the smiles as he manoeuvred his way through the partially crowded staircase, until finally he found the man he was looking for. Alfred always had a presence in the room that commanded respect. After all, he was the man who'd raised Batman—not that many people knew about that, of course. He was giving orders to a few waitresses, who were nodding and recording everything mentally, determined to make the night successful. As Alfred's gaze fell to Dick, however, he dismissed them and started to shunt Dick back towards the staircase, ignoring his protests.

"Sorry, Master Dick, help only I'm afraid."

Dick huffed and planted his feet firmly against the stairs. "Bruce wants to know how the security's holding up." He hoped the man understood what he meant.

"Ah, yes, it's fine," he replied, nodding. "It would be better if he had his high-level system on but it'll do for—"

"Wait, what? He knows about a potential threat and he didn't increase the security?" Dick's head was cocked to the side slightly, creases forming between his brows as he frowned.

"You know how paranoid Master Bruce can be. Paranoid, but logical." After a moment or two, he continued when this didn't seem to help the confusion. "It would be terribly unfortunate if a professor was to go outside for a breath of fresh air and ended up getting fried."

"So basically there are too many new faces at the manor for the system to properly register threats."

"Indeed, but it seems he has other ways of tightening security. Two heroes and their sidekicks," Dick scowled at the word, "in the same room ought to provide some extra safety. Now, if you will excuse me, Master Dick, I believe there is a waiter in desperate need of etiquette lessons." He gave a shallow bow and turned to trot back down the stairs.

Dick pondered over what he'd been told and supposed it all made sense. He'd assumed previously that upon discovering the threat to the safety of some of the country's finest minds, Bruce would either make it impossible for villains to even get within a mile of the manor without being detected or simply cancel the ball. He hadn't thought it was Bruce's style to endanger innocent lives. He would just have to trust that he knew what he was doing.

Dick began to ascend the staircase again, pausing momentarily at the top to check his reflection. As he was straightening his tie and smoothing down a few stray hairs, he heard a noise that vaguely sounded like glass being smashed. Years of training in awareness kicked in and he picked up his pace, soon arriving back at the main hall.

He didn't know what to make of the scene before him.

Glass had indeed been shattered, but not just by a person it seemed. He'd almost been expecting to see Poison Ivy and she did not disappoint. She stood proudly in the middle of the hall, fragments of glass surrounding her. That was always the thing with supervillains—they always loved to make an entrance.

He instinctively dashed forwards only to stumble over an object on the ground. The object, he noted when he glanced down, was in fact a person, knocked out by some toxin. The other fallen bodies were being trampled on during the mad dash to get to the exit. The general screams of the guests hummed together, forming a morbid sort of chorus. Trying to go against the current of people was near impossible for Dick; he was not large enough to barge his way through yet there were too many people for him to slip through gaps. He knew when to give up and what the logical thing to do was, so he ignored the situation in the hall and allowed himself to be pushed out.

Once free of the crowd, he sprinted away. He caught the sight of two blurs from the corner of his eye and could only assume that Barry and Wally had left to change. Figuring he ought to do the same, he continued running until he reached a supply cupboard. He punched in the code and the door swung open. Checking the corridor around him, he slipped inside and hastily undressed. Within moments, Robin emerged.

People let him pass this time. They did not question how he knew to be here or how he'd actually arrived so quickly; they merely parted to allow the young hero through. He could hear Ivy's cackles above the screams now. He paused at the entrance of the hall, his eyes scanning over his surroundings as he processed what he needed to do first. A dark shadow fell over the villain as her laughter wavered and Robin knew he could leave Batman to deal with her. He would help free any hostages.

The ones in immediate danger were the ones being dragged backwards by moving vines. The plants were wrapped around their ankles tight enough to draw blood. No matter how much they struggled, the people could not free themselves. Robin ran to the nearest one, drawing a small blade from his utility belt. He crouched and quickly began to hack away at the vine, carefully avoiding the sickly green pus it spurted. It regrew but was weak. The elderly man scrambled away, panic delaying his reactions as he made a dash for the door.

Robin moved to the next person, side-stepping any vines that lashed at him. He worked as quickly as he could and soon moved onto a third person. The screams had quietened now and shock had taken over. A few had passed out from either pain or the toxins being secreted by the plants.

As Robin tried to sprint past the nearest cluster of simmering vines, Poison Ivy directed her next attack at him, practically screeching as three larger vines snapped up and were aimed at him. He had only a second or two to respond but he was not fast enough. His head slammed against the wall with a sickening crack. Two of the vines wrapped painfully tightly around his wrists while a third snaked around his neck. He was hoisted off the ground, his toes pointed in an attempt to reach the floor. His chest burned as the third vine tightened its grip; his lungs craving for just one breath of air. Knowing he would never go down without a fight, Robin kicked at the vine and struggled against its hold. He increased his efforts despite the fact that his head was pounding, he was being raised higher—to the point where he would be seriously injured is he fell—and the edges of his vision were fading. His mouth was slightly open as if, by some miracle, he would be able to inhale. The more he struggled, the tighter the vines became.

A soft whistling sound was followed by a muted thud. Robin braced himself for the oncoming explosion.

He barely had time to register the sensation of falling. All he could really concentrate on was breathing; it felt as if it had been hours since his last breath when in reality it had only been a minute or so. Sure, he felt a certain weightlessness but he simply associated that with acrobatics. He'd never been afraid of falling—it was the landing bit he was scared of.

Suddenly there was wind in his hair and arms around his body. Still panting slightly, Robin looked up only to see a beaming Kid Flash.

"Awesome timing, huh?"

They stopped and Kid Flash lowered the younger boy to the ground. "A few minutes earlier could've been more useful." He then shoved Kid Flash out of the way, narrowly avoiding a stray batarang. His mentor had been joined by Flash as the two teamed up against Ivy. Robin handed the batarang to Kid Flash, giving him precise instructions to get as many people out of there as fast as he could. Robin would figure out how to deactivate the vines. Nervous systems were just like computers right? They had to have a central point. Then again, he was fairly sure plants weren't even supposed to _have_ a nervous system.

He plucked his grappling hook from his belt, aiming at the ceiling. He was whisked off the ground and timed his jump perfectly so he would land on part of the broken window. From this height he could see where all the vines traced back to; a large, green, slightly pulsating mass beyond the window. It looked vulnerable despite its size.

He would think of this as a circuit. He couldn't simply switch it off—there were too many wires and it would take too much time. There didn't look like there was a switch, anyway. He guessed he'd just have to short-circuit it. Hopefully it would reduce to vines to normal inanimate plants, but it could also just direct every vine's attention to him. Obviously that wouldn't end well.

He leapt down from his position, landing in a crouch. Kid Flash appeared almost instantly beside him, skidding to a halt.

"Ooh, you look like you've got a plan. Please tell me you've got a plan."

Pulling out a small egg-shaped device from his utility belt, Robin handed it to the redhead with care. "I do, but I need you listen carefully and act quickly." He glanced around to make sure the others were still too wrapped up in their fight. As far as he could see, Ivy was determined to bring the men down. "The vines are, like, hooked up to a central nervous system—like a brain. It's outside the window, maybe a few hundred yards away. Run to it, pull out the pin, embed it in the plant, and get out of there as quickly as you can. Don't look back and don't stop." Kid Flash nodded and didn't ask any questions. He'd contradicted a few of Robin's assumptions over the past few months. He thought the other would be constantly babbling away but it seemed like he did know when to get his head down and carry out the work.

The vines were now trained on the two battling men. Ivy seemed to have taken most of the damage although both Flash and Batman were preventing themselves from landing any fatal blows. If his plan worked, their fight would be over in a short while.

Only a few seconds now.

As expected, a sudden and loud blast filled the air. He heard a high pitched scream, presumably from Poison Ivy, and glass shatter. The fragments fell in a cascade, blown away by the force of the explosion. Robin ducked and covered his eyes, waiting for the dust to settle. A sharp sound rang in his ears after the noise had died down but he didn't feel as if he needed to focus on that. He checked briefly on the others, who were currently detaining Ivy, before darting out of the hall. He didn't pause for long to look around but he knew it would take a while to clean up. Tables were smashed, glass littered the floor, and the vines lay in an immobile mass across the room. He would have to worry about that later, though. For now he would have to tend to Kid Flash. He thought the redhead would've raced back into the building as soon as he set the bomb but Robin had yet to see him.

He took the shortest route out of the building and ran across the grass. At least, he assumed it was grass. It was now covered in what Robin could only describe as 'plant goo'. He heard a muffled groan and looked around, searching for the source of the sound. Sure enough, Kid Flash was not too far away, lying face down on the ground. Parts of his costume were ripped but it seemed like and cuts are grazes were healing. Robin crouched beside the other boy, shaking his shoulder gently until he turned around. Gradually, the speedster sat up and blinked his eyes slowly. Kneeling in front of him, Robin took the goggles off and took his chin between his fingers. He tilted his head up and then to each side. Kid Flash's eyes stayed focused on him.

"You idiot, I told you not to look back," Robin said with a mocking scowl.

"Yeah, but Rob, it was a cool explosion."

"Can you see okay? Do you feel ill? Is anything painful?"

Instead of answered the questions, Kid Flash replied with, "Did you know I have a Robin collection set?" He paused for a moment, his brows drawing together. "I have no idea why I told you that."

Robin opened his mouth to respond, but closed it again after words failed him. He stood back up and held a hand out to his friend, helping him back to his feet. He hovered nearby in case Kid Flash had lost any sense of balance but he seemed to be okay. No concussions, at least.

By the time they reached the front of the manor, police cars had arrived and Poison Ivy was being led into the back of a van. Robin tugged on the older's arm, guiding him towards the shadows. The press would be turning up soon and the last thing they needed was a bunch of cameras in their faces. They met up with their mentors; Kid Flash gave Flash a tight hug whereas Robin settled for a nod and a small smile at Batman. He understood that they would discuss the evening later that night; there were many issues left unresolved. Both of them had credible alibis for their disappearances but there were still more mundane matters at hand. They would have to organise a clean-up of the manor and a possible renovation of the main hall, and of course figure out what exactly the attack was about. Robin glanced over his shoulder at Ivy and was mildly surprised to see that she look almost pleased to be going back to Arkham, as if it had been planned all along. If that had in fact been the plan, then who exactly was the mastermind behind all of this? And why waste a villain on an ultimately pointless attack?

Robin blinked back into reality and reached to stop the gloved hand waving in front of his eyes. Kid Flash gave him a lopsided grin and said, "Flash said we need to head off before it gets too cold. Good luck with dealing with all the… stuff." He indicated vaguely to the mansion, referring to the genetically modified plants within.

"Thanks, KF," Robin replied with a grin of his own. "See you around?" The statement was casual but his tone was questioning.

"Definitely," and then he was gone—only a small speck in the distance within a few seconds.

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_A/N- Okay, so I planned on uploading this earlier than I actually did but my hard drive broke, had to fix my laptop, blah blah blah. Also, it kind of got longer than I originally intended but OH WELL. _


	5. Part Five

**Blossoming of a Friendship**

**Part Five**

_10th January 2009_

"Seriously, dude, I cannot get over how cool this is." Wally was stood before the notice board, beaming brightly at it. Dick stood beside him but his eye roll wasted behind his shades.

It was their first time hanging out in civilian clothes and without a mission. They'd known each other for several months and the idea had been tossed about many times, but Dick had never been able to get Bruce to agree. While he was harsh, it was understandable. Dick knew they took the 'secret identity' thing very seriously so he couldn't just show up as the billionaire's son. Not only would Wally know who Robin was, but people would begin to ask questions. One speculation would lead to another and before he knew it, his secret would be revealed to the entire world.

Yes, it was understandable, but it had still been infuriating.

Dick was always grateful for Bruce. He knew the man often went out of his way for Dick and tried to make his childhood the best it could be in an empty mansion in Gotham, but sometimes they just failed to see eye-to-eye. Even after demonstrating how different he could look with the assistance of baggier clothing and shades, Bruce's contribution to the conversation had been little more than an irritated huff. Eventually Dick pulled the trust card—possibly accompanied by his infamous puppy dog eyes—and Bruce's resolve had practically crumbled. Well, not really. But he let him hang out with Wally. There were certain conditions that were to be met, though. As expected, he was to take his utility belt and communicator in case of any trouble they might run into, and he was to make sure he got back on time, if not earlier. And if anyone showed even the slightest hint of recognising him or connecting the dots, he was to go right back to the airport. It was a little extreme but Dick wasn't willing to push his luck. Bruce would happen to have a conveniently scheduled business meeting in the city over from Central City so he wouldn't be too far away. Besides, he'd made sure his jet would land in Central and drop Dick off as discreetly as possible. Wally had offered to run over to Gotham and pick him up since it would save both time and money, but Dick had rejected the idea. Was it so bad that he wanted to hang out with his friend without using their abilities? After all, Wally didn't exactly suit Gotham; he was much too bright and happy for the place.

So there he stood alongside the redhead, reading the articles pinned up on the local comic store's 'Hero Board'. His hair was messy and sometimes tickled his eyes, which were covered by a pair of dark sunglasses, much to Wally's dismay. He'd received a few odd looks from some people, although he _was _wearing sunglasses in January. His jeans hung a little looser than normal on his hips and his large red hoody did wonders at blocking out the winter cold. Wally too was dressed in jeans and a hoody, although his was yellow. It was kind of ironic how it reflected his Kid Flash costume—or perhaps Wally just liked the colour.

The Hero Board was a notice board dedicated to the news stories about superheroes. Dick was unsurprised to see a few about himself and Batman, although they tended to focus more on the older of the Dynamic Duo. However, the ripped-out article that had Wally practically vibrating on the spot was about Kid Flash, and only Kid Flash. After the events at the Wayne mansion, a fair amount of public attention had been placed on the young speedster and as far as Robin could tell, he loved it. The article sported a decent sized photograph of Wally in action and then went on about his noticeable traits. For a paragraph or two, the writer discussed how his powers were possible—was he related to the Flash? Was he an alien? Was it an experiment gone wrong?

(Dick already knew, of course. He'd read Wally's file.)

"Wally, people are staring at you. You're gonna vibrate through the carpet," Robin whispered, elbowing his friend gently. Wally offered him a sheepish smile and stopped fidgeting, his eyes still glued to the paper.

"Look! They called me 'admirable' and 'valiant'!"

Robin snorted. "Do you even know what those words mean?"

"You—hey! I'm older than you, of course I know what they mean," he replied, poking his tongue out to show just how mature he was.

"Well, at least they got your name right this time." Robin had spent many hours teasing Kid Flash about the constant misconception of his name. He'd been called Speedy and Flash Junior, among a variety of other names. This frustrated Wally almost as much as it amused Dick.

"Low blow, Rob." He finally turned away from the board—he probably already had the article framed at home—and tugged on the younger's arms, leading through the labyrinth of comics. They picked up a few as they walked past and chatted idly as they browsed through their preferred series. Although he hardly ever read them, the Batman series intrigued Dick. It was strange seeing how people perceived his mentor, and often quite scary when they were right.

A smirk tugged at his lips when he glanced up. He called Wally over and pointed to the shelf above the collection of Batman comics. Wally gave him a confused look.

"See?" He picked up a small, detailed figurine of Robin. "You can add it to your Robin collection."

A blush dusted Wally's cheeks and he shoved at Robin's shoulder. "We _agreed _not to talk about that."

The younger chuckled and placed the item back on the shelf, grinning to the redhead. He would never let Wally live that one down.

ᴥᴥᴥ

Their plans for the day were very vague. Wally had suggested that they go on a tour of the city, much like Robin had done for him upon his first visit to Gotham, before the other reminded him that he'd been to Central City before. Instead they'd settled for stopping of at Wally's favourite comic book store and getting a quick lunch at a café near Wally's house. His parents had supplied him with more than enough money for the day and he felt kind of satisfied that he could do something for Robin. If his advanced technology was anything to go by, Robin wasn't exactly poor.

Wally ate enough to probably feed three other people while Robin settled for a chicken salad. Their hushed small talk continued as they discussed matters from school life to their favourite heroes. Wally rambled on until he took another bite, during which time he would still attempt to talk and ignore the look Robin would give him. Robin, however, took a little more time to think over what he wanted to say. It was only a second or two but he just wanted to make sure that he didn't let anything slip. The amount of times he almost referred to Batman as 'Bruce' was slightly concerning. He wasn't quite used to talking to people his age who knew him as 'Robin' and not 'Dick'.

"So," Wally began, placing his second burger down, "I was thinking—"

"Don't do that, you'll strain yourself," Robin interrupted.

"Very funny. I was thinking… You should come over. To my house, I mean." Robin's gaze snapped up, his shades almost sliding off the bridge of his nose. "Come on! It's not like any supervillain's gonna track us down. My parents know about the Kid Flash thing and they won't ask questions."

Robin sent Wally a sceptical look from behind his glasses and took a few moments to place his fork down. "Won't it be kind of suspicious if you bring me round out of nowhere?"

"Heh… not really. I kind of talk about you a lot," he confessed, pointedly avoiding Robin's hidden eyes.

"… How much is a lot?"

"I dunno, like, after every patrol or whenever I see you on TV. I mean," he leaned forwards and lowered his voice to a gentle hiss, "you're _Robin_. Of course I'm gonna talk about you. You're, like, the coolest kid in the world. You get to hang out with Batman!"

"I thought you preferred Flash," Robin said in a questioning tone, arching an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah, but Bats is still cool." He paused for a moment before continuing, "But don't tell him I said that."

Robin laughed and then shook his head, thinking over his options. "You're sure they won't ask questions?"

"They won't."

"And they don't mind me not telling them who I am."

"Nope."

"Okay."

"Dude, come on, it'll be—wait, did you just say 'okay'?" Robin nodded and settled his hands in his lap. "Wow, erm, okay then. Shall we go?"

Wally covered the basics of his family life on the short walk back to his house. He'd told his parents that he would be spending the day out with a friend so he wasn't entirely sure if they'd be in the house. He told Robin about his mother and his father, and how they both accepted his dual life. He'd been hesitant to tell them at first but Flash said he had to; it was something to do about legal stuff. His father had been angry, just as Wally had expected, but his mother and Flash had used logical reasoning with him. Flash was one of the two people who could train Wally, and the only one in the condition to do so. Whether Wally wanted to use his powers in the same way Flash used his was up to Wally to decide, and he probably would've done it with or without his parents' consent. He was just glad they'd agreed. To be honest, Wally thought his dad had just been intimidated by Flash. Oh well, it all worked out. They were supportive with his hero life but always made sure he kept up with school work.

Robin allowed Wally to do most of the talking and interjected with a question or snarky comment every now and then. It must've been nice, he thought, to be part of a normal family. Dick remembered his parents; how could he forget them? They still haunted his nightmares. They'd loved him just as he'd loved them. He often spent time just thinking about them. About whether they'd be proud of him, whether they'd agree with his choices, or whether they'd agree with what Bruce had shaped him into. He rarely got invited out to other people's houses, so normal families were somewhat strange to him. After all, he'd first been raised in a circus and then by Batman. Where was the 'normal' in that?

Wally's house, he decided, was quaint. It was a house just outside of the busier parts of the city, nestled neatly among the other houses. It wasn't large, nor was it small. Wally knocked on the door and then turned the handle, mildly surprised to find that it was unlocked. He'd been half expecting for his bad luck to kick in and result in the two of them sat on the doorstep for hours until his parents returned.

"Mom? Dad? I brought a friend home," he called as he entered, shrugging off his hoody. Robin stifled a snicker when he saw that Wally was wearing a shirt with Flash's symbol on it. Even when he was the man's sidekick, he was as big a fanboy as ever.

A woman with short, chestnut hair walked into the hallway, smiling to her son. Her eyes were as bright as Wally's and they widened upon spotting Robin. The boys slipped their shoes off and Wally introduced him to his mother.

"Mom, this is, er…"

"Robin," Dick supplied, extending a hand to the woman. He couldn't forget his manners.

Her smile widened and she took his hand, shaking it politely. "I'm Mary. It's a pleasure to meet you, Robin. I've heard a lot about you."

Robin glanced over to Wally with a smirk. "So I've heard."

Wally, deciding to ignore that comment, turned to his mother and asked, "Where's Dad?"

"He's out with a few colleagues. I don't think he'll be back until late." She looked to Robin and gave a small shrug. "I'm afraid you'll have to meet him some other time."

Robin smiled to her, replying, "That's not a problem."

"We're gonna head upstairs now, if that's okay. I've got the change and we've already eaten. He needs to be back at the airport by five." Wally was tugging on Robin's elbow, slowly creeping closer towards the stairs.

Mary crossed her arms over her chest and gave Wally a look that wasn't too unlike the look Dick received from Alfred on occasion. "Wallace West, have you seen your bedroom lately? You'd be lucky if you could find the floor. No guests up there until it's tidy, young man."

Wally's shoulders sagged. "But _Mom_—"

"No 'but's, Wally."

He exhaled a dejected sigh and then nodded. "'Kay. Be back in a flash." He whizzed off in a blur, leaving the other two groaning at the overused joke. It had never been funny, nor would it ever be funny.

Within moments, Wally was back; the only evidence that he'd been gone was how his hair was slightly ruffled. "I know, I know, no powers in the house. But my room's tidy now, right?" Mary just raised her eyebrows. "… Tidi_er_."

She gave a soft laugh and nodded, stepping back into what looked like the living room. "Sure. Have fun, boys."

Wally took hold of Robin's wrist and pulled him upstairs. Robin followed closely behind him and wasn't too surprised when he saw Wally's room. His walls were painted navy blue and his single bed was next to the window. The walls were lined with posters of various bands, heroes, and movies, all of which Dick deemed to be suitable nerdy. A few schoolbooks and pieces of paper littered Wally's desk and some had fallen onto the floor. As far as he could tell, Wally had haphazardly thrown the dirty laundry either back into his closet or under his bed. Dick didn't mind, though. It provided a good contrast to the perpetual tidiness of the Wayne manor. There was something just so _Wally _about the room.

"If this is 'tidier' then I'd hate to see what it was like before," Robin teased, walking over to sit on the edge of Wally's bed. He'd already analysed what he could about the room; there were no prominent dangers, but he hadn't really been expecting any.

Wally, who was evidently much more relaxed in his own space, flopped down onto the bed beside Robin. "Well, _sorry._ I'll be sure to get the maids on it the next time you're over."

Dick chimed a laugh and then leaned back until he was lying beside the other. "So, what're we gonna do?"

"What's your name?" Wally asked, completely disregarding Robin's question.

"I—what? Wally, you know I can't tell you," he replied with a sigh. He would like to, but he couldn't. At least, not for now. He trusted Kid Flash with his life but he wasn't sure whether that extended out of costume.

"I know but I thought I'd ask anyway." A pregnant pause filled the silence until Wally spoke up again. "What colour are your eyes?"

"Blue." There was no harm, Dick assumed, in telling him. He knew Wally was smart but there were plenty of kids around Gotham with dark hair and blue eyes. He wouldn't figure it out from that.

"Can I see them?"

"No."

"Oh." He didn't persist after that. He knew his boundaries and when not to overstep them. "Well," he said, sitting up, crossing his legs, and turning to face the other, "what kind of blue?"

Robin followed his actions and readjusted his shades, now feeling self-conscious. "I don't know. I never really thought about it. Light blue, I guess."

"Huh… I used to think they'd be brown. I guess blue kind of suits you, though," Wally replied, staring at the boy as he tried to figure out what he'd look like without the glasses. It would be so easy to just use his speed to snatch them from his face, but with Robin's reflexes, he highly doubted he'd get very far without receiving a particularly painful punch. For a young kid, he sure knew how to hit.

Robin glanced over Wally's shoulder, intrigued by the multitude of posters. One of them, he noted, wasn't a poster at all. It was a copy of a photograph that had been circulating around the internet. It was extremely high quality and had been taken by a student on her way home. Luckily for the girl, she happened to have her camera on her just as the Dynamic Duo swung past, resulting in one of the clearest pictures of them to date. "Is that thing still going around?"

Wally, confused as to what he was talking about, followed Robin's gaze. "Huh? Oh, the photo. Yeah, it's the best photo of you two out there. You tend to avoid the cameras, right?"

Robin nodded. "We're not in it for the publicity."

Wally huffed playfully. "You make it sound like I am."

Robin grinned and then stood up, stretching his arms as he did. "So, how about you show me this collection of yours?"

"Dude, shut _up. _It's not like it was only you. I had one of Speedy too."

ᴥᴥᴥ

Wally, Dick decided, somehow managed to speed up time. He'd yet to come up with a plausible theory as to how and why this was possible, but he was sure of it. Before he knew it, Mary was calling them downstairs. Wally paused the video game and looked over to the alarm clock on his bedside table. He then looked to his score displayed on the TV; it was woefully poor compared to Robin's.

"How did you do that? I'm, like, a pro at this game."

Robin tapped his nose and gave a wink, although it was wasted behind his shades. "That's for me to know and for you to—well, not know."

With a loud laugh, Wally stood up and offered a hand to Robin. When they were both on their feet, Robin turned away, picked up his previously discarded hoody, and slipped his glasses off. After reattaching his utility belt around his waist—Wally had been quite amused that he'd brought it with him—he shimmied back into the hoody and hastily replaced the sunglasses. He turned back to face Wally, only to find that the redhead was no longer in the room.

"Wally?"

"Out here," came his muffled reply. Robin walked over to the door, placed his hand over the handle, and yanked it open. Wally, who had been leaning against the door, toppled on top of the bird. "Er, hey. Figured you might want some privacy."

Dick stared at him for a moment, not entirely sure how to respond. "Thanks, now get off me. All that food you eat goes somewhere, you know." He pushed at Wally's shoulders for emphasis. They both knew that Robin could easily have removed Wally from his being, but not without harming him in the process.

"Did you just call me fat?" he asked in the tone of an insulted schoolgirl. However, he stood and, once again, held out his hand to Robin. He didn't need the assistance but he took it anyway. "I'll have you know that my superior metabolism burns up any excess energy like a wildfire, so if anything I don't eat _enough_."

"Well, it must just all go to your ego." Robin slipped past Wally and trotted down the stairs, leaving a slack-jawed redhead in his wake.

ᴥᴥᴥ

Dick fished the slice of lemon out of his glass of water, placing it on the folded napkin on the table between him and Bruce. He could never understand why the flight attendants insisted on putting lemon in his water whenever he specifically asked them not to.

He set the glass down before asking, "How was the meeting?" He didn't really care about it but he should probably feign interest. He'd have to learn about the company someday, as Bruce liked to remind him. He was fairly sure the man just enjoyed seeing someone else go through the intense boredom that he had to suffer.

"Nothing spectacular happened." Bruce took a sip from his cocktail, eyeing Dick over the top of the glass. "How was your day with Wally?"

The corners of Dick's lips curled upwards into a smile. "It was fun."

Bruce gave a short nod. "Good." The conversation dwindled past that point. Dick didn't really want to share the details of the day and Bruce just looked as if his day had been long enough already. He glanced out of the window, marvelling at how small and insignificant everything seemed. It still felt weird to him—being able to fly across the country in a private jet. Perhaps he'd get used to it when he was older.

Bruce spoke again, redirecting Dick's attention to the man once more. "It's not a school night so we'll be on patrol until late. I suggest you get some sleep before we arrive back in Gotham."

* * *

_A/N- What's this? I updated at a reasonable time? It cannot be!_

_Anyways, enjoy the bro-bonding._


	6. Part Six

**Blossoming of a Friendship**

**Part Six**

_19__th__ March 2009_

Despite the fact that it was mid-march with spring now fully here, Dick sat in front of the crackling fire, his eyes scanning over his textbook as he allowed the warmth to wash over him. Even in the height of summer, it was never particularly warm in Gotham. Although he supposed that wasn't really a fair assumption, considering that he'd only been living in the city for a few years, but he still had yet to witness weather he'd experienced while travelling with the circus.

The sky beyond the window was quickly darkening and every five minutes, Dick would glance over to the ticking grandfather clock, expecting more time to have passed. Eventually he gave up and set his pen down. His original intention had been to complete his homework for the week as not to fall behind over weekend, when he would most likely be busy with other commitments both in costume and out. But now, though, he simply stayed sat cross-legged on the soft rug, staring into the flickering flames.

Soon, he got bored with wasting time and decided to head down to the Batcave. Batman and Robin were taking a well-deserved night off but Dick knew that Bruce wouldn't stay away from the cave for too long. Crime never sleeps, after all. Even if he wasn't in costume, Bruce was always cracking down on Gotham's major crime organisations and villains, whether it be via press conferences and subtle loyalties as Bruce Wayne: Playboy Billionaire, or hidden deep within the Batcave, tapping away at its vast database.

The faint hum of several computers merged with the various other sounds scattered about the Batcave; a soft dripping, wings flapping, fingers tapping impatiently. The largest screen was almost completely black, save for the green digits Bruce was typing in rapidly. Dick sat on the medical counter a short distance away from the man, watching him as he worked. They'd lapsed into a comfortable silence. He'd only been down for a minute or two but Bruce had already tasked his ward with reading off a sort of checklist for him so he could organise his thoughts as he worked.

Dick flipped the page of the bundled pieces of paper; many of them were print-offs from suspicious sites or news articles that held some essence of dangerous truth to them, some were handwritten notes from Bruce or Alfred, and the occasional unfiled police report turned up. "There's a blog that says they've got the same formula used by Scarecrow and they're going to—"

"I've looked into it. The claims are false," Bruce said, his typing slowing to a stop. The screen was now covered in a string of numbers—supposedly a code used by a cyber-gang to bypass security on government websites. Even at Dick's level, he could only understand bits and pieces of it. What he did know was that Bruce was withholding it from the police. In his words, it was a tool that could be easily underestimated and was best kept in the safest place he knew—with him.

"Okay, how about the funding for lower class supervillains?" he asked.

Bruce placed the pads of his fingers together and rested his index fingers against his nose, breathing in deeply and closing his eyes. "I've got a few leads but nothing substantial as of yet. Make that a priority after the current mission has finished."

Dick nodded and took out a bright highlighter, making a mark on the paper and placing it to one side. "And that's about it." He shuffled the other papers together so they were straight and then hopped down from the counter. Alfred had been down just before him with a precariously balanced tray of hot chocolate. Assuming they were cool enough to drink without causing any scolding, Dick picked up the mugs and carried them over to Bruce.

"So, Brucester, you gonna take a break now?" he asked, offering one of the drinks to him. "You've been working non-stop since you got back from that charity thing."

Bruce mouthed 'Brucester' with a raised brow but did not question the name any further. In response to the question, he shook his head and tapped a few keys. The large screen went blank, whirred, and then separated into nine smaller screens, each displaying news broadcasts.

"What's that?" Dick asked, pointing to one of the top panels. Another few taps and the panel enlarged to fit the entire screen. A woman with ginger hair, bright eyes, and a glittering ring on her finger was reporting but no audible words could be heard. The news station was from Central City where she was currently reporting the latest heroics of Flash and Kid Flash. Intrigued, Dick leaned over and unmuted the volume. The small screen beside the woman showed how the speedster duo managed to prevent five elaborately organised robberies at five major banks practically simultaneously; an impressive feat for any hero, even the ones with superspeed. He'd questioned Wally about hero life in Central a few times but his friend generally took that as an opportunity to brag.

"—_unfortunately, we were unable to take an official statement from the pair—_"

"Impressive," Dick commented as the news station played back footage of the story. It was obvious that Kid Flash still needed more training to completely control his power but Flash certainly picked up the slack. They made an interesting team, relying more on wit and quick-thinking than strategy and pre-planned manoeuvres.

"If you say so," Bruce murmured, shifting slightly to dodge Dick's oncoming elbow. "They shouldn't be doing this right now. We have other priorities."

"Wait, you mean you got the lead? Is it the same group?"

Bruce stood and walked over to another of the Batcave's smaller computers. He brought up a screen covered with photos and annotations, displaying the known members of Gotham's third largest criminal organisation. The members of its Star City and Central City were highlighted in separate colours. "Yes and the plan will continue as we said."

"Tomorrow night?" Dick's question was answered with a silent nod. He exhaled a soft sigh; he wouldn't complain. He knew Batman and Robin have other priorities and complaining would just be selfish. "Are KF and I still the lookouts?"

"Once we receive the location of their base in Central," he checked the watch on his wrist, his brows furrowing slightly, "which should've been any moment now. They've detoured from the plan with the robberies. It'll take another half hour or so until Flash arrives to give us the information and confirm last-minute details."

Dick smiled to himself and shook his head. He took a seat beside Bruce and reached over to drag his laptop towards him and turn it on. "Luckily for you, I got bored last month and made a little IM programme." As if to demonstrate, he pulled up Kid Flash's chat window and swivelled the laptop around to show Bruce. A small map also appeared beside the window with a yellow flashing light on it. The man didn't comment but merely gave Dick a knowing look. "Okay, I _may _have put a tracker in Wally's goggles, but that's not important right now." He clicked in the text box at the bottom of the screen and quickly typed in a message. He'd upgraded Wally's costume while he'd been making the programme. As well as a music player in his head-gear, he attached a small screen to the inside of his food compartment. It was a much simpler version of his own wrist-computer and would be easily broken; he'd really only been messing around with prototypes. It would probably be either shattered or fried by the next time he caught up with the redhead.

Within a minute or so, the computer made a small _ping _sound. A satisfied smirk pulled at Dick's lips.

"They're at the warehouse on East-side. Limited camera range, the power fluctuates but the visibility from the nearest building is good. They've already planted to sensors and microphones you gave them."

Bruce paused for a moment, processing the words that had just spilled from the child's mouth, and then smiled. "Good work, Dick," he said, ruffling his hair before walking away, hot chocolate in hand.

Dick quickly typed a reply to Wally and then closed his laptop, rushing after his mentor. "You know, I just made the programme and installed the software and hardware. It's not like I found out where the base is."

"Take the praise that's given to you."

He grinned up to Bruce as they began to ascend to the ground floor of the mansion. "Will do. So are we gonna be away all night and into the next day?"

Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder as they walked. "Most likely but we'll be back for the celebrations. Think of it as giving Alfred time to set up decorations."

"Bruce, you know I don't like making a big deal about things—"

"It's only a private celebration. We'll have dinner and then we can do anything you want."

Dick glanced up to his, his brows raised. "'Anything'? You know I'm gonna hold you to that, right?"

"I know." They lapsed into a comfortable silence, one that often graced them as they entered the battle field. Now, though, they were in the comfort of their own home and felt no need to carry on the conversation. At least until Bruce said, "Oh, and I've told Flash to let Wally know when your birthday is. I know you haven't told him yet, which is awfully rude of you. From what I heard he's very excited about the next mission."

He walked down a separate corridor in the direction of his private study, chuckling quietly at the betrayed expression on Dick's face.

ᴥᴥᴥ

_21__st __March 2009_

Central City, it seemed, gave a much better and more comfortable experience for those who wished to fight crime, or even just watch others fight crime. The rooftop was nowhere near as grimy as Robin had been expecting; Kid Flash had even set up a _blanket _so they wouldn't have to get wet. He'd become so used to the grim Gotham streets that he'd almost forgotten that there were brighter, cleaner places out there. Perhaps he should ask Batman to team up with Flash more often. (Well, technically now he was teaming up with Flash and Green Arrow but Robin preferred Central City over Star City.)

"Please tell me that's not a birthday present," was his greeting to the other sidekick. Batman dropped down beside him with a dulled thud and they approached the others. Flash and Green Arrow moved off slightly to one side, talking over any minor changes to the plan before they left. Kid Flash, on the other hand, just grinned to his friend.

"I can't believe you were gonna hold out on me!" he exclaimed a little too loudly for their quiet surroundings.

"Kid, shut it," Flash said over his shoulder, somehow managing to make the command sound affectionate. "Covert, remember?" Kid Flash nodded and offered his mentor a sheepish smile and a mumbled apology.

"Yeah, because a bright yellow outfit is totally covert," Robin said under his breath. "KF, it's not my birthday."

"It's not _now _but it will be in less than an hour." At the other's knitted brows, he elaborated, "Time zones, dude."

Robin made a soft 'ah' sound, but a pointed cough caused his attention to turn towards the adults. With a silent nod, Batman took out his grappling hook as he and Green Arrow jumped from the current rooftop to the next. Flash gave them a small salute and then all that was left was a gentle breeze. The two younger heroes then held their hands to their ears, waiting for the signal that would let them know that the communicators were working and that the plan had officially begun.

In terms of strategy, it was a relatively simple plan. The bad guys were in the warehouse, the good guys were outside, and all the good guys had to do was tie up the bad guys in a neat little package ready for the police. The Gotham members would be filtered out from the mess to be trialled in their home city, just as Green Arrow would do the same with the Star City members. However, the plan had encountered some slight complexities when Batman came to the realisation almost a week ago about the link between the minor supervillains and the upgraded security around the organisation's bases. The supervillains would not pose too much of a threat, though; they only really had enhanced strength and durability, which was nothing compared to the heroes' combined training. The problem with the supervillains was that there were so many of them and they were somehow all armed with surprisingly high-tech equipment. Finding the source of their money would come later, though.

"You know, I was kind of looking forward to meeting Speedy," Robin commented as he settled himself down on the blanket. From their position, he could see most entrances to the warehouse and also the route the guards took on their patrols. Somehow none of them noticed the two kids perched on the nearby rooftop.

"Yeah, me too," Kid Flash replied with an exaggerated sigh, flopping down beside Robin. "Then again, I probably would've freaked out a bit. Like, I'm surprised I didn't do that with you because you're, well—" He gesticulated towards Robin's form vaguely, "_Robin_."

A smile curved the younger's lips as he replied, "If it makes you feel any better, I freaked when I met Superman."

"Tch, really?"

"Mhmm, I called him 'Clarkman' and had to be taken out of the room," he said, laughing at the memory. "Not that you heard that from me. I'm pretty sure Batman doesn't want me telling people that."

"But I'm an exception?" Wally smirked.

Robin mirrored the smirk. "The only one."

"Dude, no, we're gonna get sappy. Think of something manly quickl—ah!"

They both jumped as their communicators sounded simultaneously in their ears. They responded quietly and efficiently, and sat silently for a moment, awaiting any further instructions. When none came, their postures relaxed and their fight stances dissipated. Normally Robin would have complained about being stuck on look-out duty, but he supposed it wasn't too bad if he had company. Still, though, it was quite the demotion from his usual night-time activities in Gotham.

"Now we wait?" Kid Flash asked as he watched a red blur zoom into the warehouse.

Robin nodded. "And now we wait."

A comfortable silence lulled between them, both of them half-expecting shouts of surprise and gunfire within the building. Nothing happened, however—well, nothing audible or visible from the position. It hadn't been clarified but they both knew they were acting as back up, not just to call the others when the heads of the organisation's branches turned. They doubted they'd be needed, though. It would hardly be a difficult take-down and, if anything, they would probably be more of a hindrance than a help—just another back to watch.

"I was gonna get you a birthday cake," Kid Flash said suddenly, fiddling with the strap of his goggles. "Actually, I was gonna make it."

"And what? Did you eat it?" Robin asked in a teasing tone.

"Huh—_no_. Flash said the candles would draw attention to us." It could've been the limited light, but Robin swore he saw Kid Flash's bottom lip stick out in a childish pout. "And you can't have a birthday cake without candles."

Before Robin could respond, a deep voice sounded across the communicator's. The Boy Wonder followed his mentor's instructions, ducking down to open his wrist computer. He quickly drew up a hologram of the warehouse and instructed Kid Flash to quickly scout around the lower floors to check the system mapping was working. In moments he saw another body heat indicated on the hologram and sent a message for Kid Flash to return. Once the final checks were over, he sent the programme over to Batman.

"Is that was the motion sensors were for? You know, the ones you got Flash and I to put around."

Robin's head bobbed in a short nod as he arched his back, several clicks sounding. "Yeah. I would've done it before we got here but I wouldn't have known if the live-time was working."

"So how long do you reckon we're gonna be?"

His shoulders rose in a small shrug. "Can't say for sure—it depends on how fashionably late the mobsters decide to be."

ᴥᴥᴥ

_22__nd__ March 2009_

It was with a muffled yawn that midnight came around. Kid Flash had just opened his food compartment to take out the small snack—and yes, he had already broken the mini-computer—when he heard a faint beeping sound. He cast a confused look to Robin, who only tapped his wrist in response. What had previously been a small computer interface had switched to a watch. A slow grin curved Kid Flash's lips as he thrust the hastily wrapped gift towards the other.

"Happy birthday! You survived another whole year."

Despite the fact that he had been expecting this to happen eventually, Wally's enthusiasm took him somewhat by surprise. With a smile and a soft chuckle, he took the present from him and began to unwrap it carefully. He tried to deduce what it was before he saw it, but it was rectangular and flat so it could really have been anything. When he did finally unveil it, he had to raise a hand to his mouth to muffle his loud laugh.

"You got me comics?"

Wally nodded, his grin still bright. "Yup. You said before that you've never read any of the Robin comics because you—"

"—Don't want to know what people think of me," he finished, and it was true. Initially people had been very reluctant to accept him as the Caped Crusader's sidekick, mostly because they had distorted views on what the man was like and believed he should only work alone. Many of these opinions had been voiced to Robin in person and he wasn't exactly oblivious to the vast array of hate-sites dedicated to him online.

"Yeah, but I want you to know how appreciated you are. I mean, you're really awesome. You're the one who inspired me to go out and live my dream and the one who proved that you don't have to be seven feet tall with a tonne of muscle to make a difference." He paused for a moment, as if to collect his thoughts into logical sentences. "I think you deserve to know what people think of you. There're always going to be people who hate others for no real reason, but there are also loads of people who recognise talent and passion. You're a kid—you don't have to be doing any of this but you do, and that's what people admire about you. Hell, it's what _I _admire about you."

As he finished his speech, Robin placed the comics carefully down on the blanket and then leaned forwards, pulling Kid Flash towards him so he could envelope him in a hug. "Thank you," he said quietly, giving the other a small squeeze.

Wally just laughed and returned the hug. "Any time, Rob. I wanted to get you a cool gadget-y thing like you got me but that was a little out of my budget range."

"It doesn't matter. This is perfect." He sat back and crossed his legs beneath him, picking the comics back up. "Oh God."

"What?"

Robin held up the first issue which held a depiction of him in his original outfit on the cover. "This."

"I kind of liked the scaly panties," Wally commented, tilting his head slightly to the side as he eyed the cover.

"Dude—they were _not _panties!"

"They so were. How come you changed the costume, anyway?"

A light blush dusted Robin's cheeks but Kid Flash decided not to notice. "Batman said I was drawing too much attention to myself. First of all because the colours weren't exactly good for camouflage, although in my defence he _did _let the eight year old design the colour scheme. And secondly because I was getting kidnapped too often."

Kid Flash threw back his head and barked out a laugh, practically immune to the glare he was receiving from the other. After a moment, though, a hand covered his mouth. It took him a short while of confusion to catch on, but afterwards he nodded to show he understood and the both peered over the edge of the rooftop to look at the large car that had just pulled up. Wally slipped his goggles over his eyes, switching between the settings as he rattled off details to Robin.

Five men, three armed, one woman, also armed, no meta-humans.

Robin relayed this information over the communicators, translating Wally's babble into clear and concise information. It was only their second time of doing this but they'd developed a sort of routine that was near flawless. They worked well together and no one could deny that.

The Star City gang approached the building and the two guards, who had been allowed to continue patrol by the heroes, let them to pass. Little did they know they were walking straight into a trap. Soon enough they would be unconscious and on their way back to Star City. That was how the evening had progressed so far. It was an unusual operation and much stranger and more delicate than previous crime-busts. Usually the heroes just went in with weapons raised and hoped for the best. Now, though, they had to wait and buy their time. The three branches only met up like this twice a year or so, so to blow this would mean months of work wasted. It was almost over now. There were only these members left and then the main infrastructure of the organisation would crumble, allowing the rest of it to disintegrate. It was important that they didn't expect anything.

When they entered the warehouse, Robin counted in his head, his brows furrowing as he reached two minutes. Surely they should have been done by now. With no word from the others, he tugged on Kid Flash's arm, signalling for him to follow. He leapt gracefully from one rooftop to the next until he had a clear vantage point to the warehouse. He pulled the grappling hook from his belt and aimed it at the top of the building. When it shot out and hooked against the low railing of the roof, he tugged harshly to ensure that it was secure. Kid Flash had only a moment's notice to grab hold of the younger before he hit the release button and whizzed off the rooftop.

They landed with muted thuds. The roof of the warehouse was cold and had a large pane of glass across the middle. Robin's lips pulled back in a smirk; how convenient. The two of them crept along the rooftop until they were beside the window. When they looked down, they could see the crooks tied to various chairs and pipes although none of them seemed to be fighting back. Upon closer inspection, however, they could see that their mentors were among the still bodies. Men circled around them, their mouths moving in twisted sneers. Guns were strapped to their sides but none of them looked as if they were in their element; most of them looked like they were trying to fill shoes that were too big for them. Their demeanours, while arrogant, were somewhat uncomfortable and it was obvious that they had no real idea what they were doing. So how did they manage to beat some of the world's finest heroes?

"KF, I need you to go to the bottom floor and find your way into that room. Wait for my signal and then attack," Robin ordered, standing up and flexing his muscles.

"Okay. What's the signal?"

"Uh, when I jump through the window, I guess," but Kid Flash was already gone before he'd finished speaking. "Well, here goes nothing." To be honest, he supposed he really should've taken the time to think through his plan—or at least formulate one—but this was one of those times where you had to ignore common sense and just rely on instinct. Robin had a tendency to overthink things but he also enjoyed throwing caution to the wind and going with whatever popped into his head. Right now, that involved jumping through the window and taking out the armed villains.

Jumping through a glass roof, it seemed, looked a lot cooler than it felt. At first there was the piercing sound of shattering that destroyed any illusion of surprise he may have held. Then there was falling and amidst the falling there was gunfire. He twisted his body and landed with a grace that came as second nature to him, but he spent only minimal time admiring his acrobatics before he sped off, ducking behind some crates. He pulled out a small device from his belt and felt a sudden presence beside him.

"Please tell me you've got an actual plan now. I'm getting bored of outrunning bullets."

"Kind of." Robin handed Kid Flash the device as he fiddled with his wrist computer, drawing up the live-time map of the building. The party that had arrived earlier was still on the lower floor, no doubt hiding from the chaos. There were only four armed men on this floor and one on the floor above. It was certainly manageable, if not insultingly easy. "I'm gonna switch the lights and in the confusion, I need you to get their guns. I don't care what you do with them, just get them unarmed." He took the device back and flipped the cap off. A small button rested underneath which, when it was pressed, cut the electricity running to the building, plunging them into darkness. Robin waited. He detected multiple shouts of confusion; all of them male, most of them aged about twenty to thirty. When he heard a window smash in the left corner of the room, he assumed Kid Flash had disposed of the weapons. Show time.

He picked several batarangs from his belt and pressed the red button again, jumping onto the crates. The lights returned, almost blindingly bright. The lenses of his mask quickly tinted to compensate for the change in light intensity, allowing him to see while the others could not. He ran quickly along the lined crates, picking his route as he went. A few accurate throws took out two of the four men with little effort and a well-placed kick took out a third. The fourth, however, he couldn't see.

All the training he'd received and the rules he'd memorised flashed back to him. If you couldn't see your attacker, make sure they couldn't see you. He grappled to the ceiling, hiding on a high window ledge. The sky outside was pitch black and the shadows took him as their own. The man stumbled out from the maze of crates and tied-up bodied, wielding a knife in his shaking hands. Rolling his eyes, Robin moved to glide down and easily perform a move to restrict the man's air flow. Just as he did, however, a yellow blur collided with him and the man fell to the ground with a strangled yelp. This took Robin by surprise and his footing as he left the window ledge was off, causing his breath to catch in his throat as he fell, but this time with no intention of landing safely.

He wasn't scared. Just as he'd expected, he was met with a cocky grin and a knowing gaze. Wally would always be there to catch him.

"Shouldn't we be seeing to our mentors?" Robin asked as he was placed back on his feet.

They were unconscious but not tied up. As Wally filled them in on what had happened and who else was left to take out, Robin went in search of what had attacked the heroes. The hired arms certainly weren't an option, considering Robin had managed to take three of them out single-handedly. Part way through his search, he found a small canister that looked as if it had previously contained gas. Curious, he pocketed the container to examine later.

The adults departed with the promise of returning in a few minutes and left the sidekicks with the task of tying up the loose ends and calling the police. Robin sent a signal to nearest cop car and Wally circulated the place three times, searching for any unspotted crooks or runaways. On his fourth lap, he took down the cameras and motion sensors.

"By the way, happy birthday, Robin," Flash said as they regrouped on the roof.

Green Arrow chuckled and moved to ruffle Robin's hair. "What're you now? Eleven?"

"Twelve," Robin correct, the faintest hints of a grin on his lips. "Oh, Bats, we need to go back to the look-out spot before we leave. I left my present there."

ᴥᴥᴥ

When Dick finally stumbled into his room, freshly showered and clothed in loose pyjamas, he barely made it to his bed before he collapsed onto it. Somehow he knew he would sleep better knowing that when he woke up, Alfred would have his birthday breakfast ready.

_Ping._

He groaned and sat up, blinking groggily at the laptop on the other side of the room. Even from his bed he could see the photo of grinning Wally. If it hadn't been him then he probably would've rolled over and gone straight to sleep. He found the energy from somewhere in his body and shuffled over to his desk, clicking on the flashing IM chat.

_K-FLASH: Rob_

_K-FLASH: dude where are you? are you home yet?_

_K-FLASH: it's important_

_K-FLASH: i really need your help! !_

* * *

_A/N- I'm going to stop apologising for taking so long or else you're going to end up with an excuse every chapter. It just takes a while to formulate my ideas into chapters I'm happy with._

_Anyways, thanks as always, and I have a recommendation for those of you who want any birdflash/bromance comics: Flash + Nightwing (1997). Feel free to message me for a link (it's a .cbz file and will work on programmes like ComicRack). Also, if anyone's interested, I made a sideblog on tumblr (i-mnotyourenemy). I don't really know why._


	7. Part Seven

**Blossoming of a Friendship**

**Part Seven**

_21__st__ March 2009_

When Dick awoke, he had a disgruntling feeling that he was forgetting something fairly important. The sound of curtains scraping back and cutlery tinkling filled his ears, much to his confusion. He blinked blearily against the harsh light and fumbled for his alarm clock. The glowing digits informed him that it was well past midday—something he hadn't quite expected. With a start, he bolted upright, only to become hopelessly entangled in his endless bed sheets. He paused as he heard soft laughter and looked over to Alfred, who was carrying a tray with an impressive-looking lunch settled upon it. The man set the tray cautiously on the messy bedside table and assisted Dick in sitting up against the headboard.

"Happy birthday, Master Dick. Forgive me for not waking you earlier but I believed that you could do with the extra sleep." He moved the tray over to Dick's lap and ruffled the boy's already tousled hair. "Master Bruce suggests that the two of you go out for dinner in the evening so you have about five hours to do as you please."

"That's great. Thanks, Alfred," Dick replied between mouthfuls. "Are we going to the Italian place?"

"If you want to." Dick responded with a nod as Alfred began to walk towards the door. "I'll make a reservation right away. Is there anything else you would like to do today?"

After a moment's consideration, Dick said, "Do you mind if I spend a couple of hours with a friend? It's kind of important. I just need a lift to the city limits."

"Of course. Let me know when you're ready—oh, and don't forget your presents." He inclined his head in the direction of Dick's desk, where a surprisingly large pile of presents had been placed.

It was the fourth birthday he'd spent at Wayne Manor and he still found the occasion strange. When he had been at the circus, every performer and crew member acted as a family. It was not about gifts or money; it was about spending the day with those you loved and those who cared about you. Dick's memories were much more precious to him than any present he had received. In the mansion, though, things were quite different. Silence generally greeted him as he traversed the halls, which had been foreign to his ears. He had been used to lively scenes and cheering crowds. Silences at the circus meant exclusion or punishment, but silence from Bruce was just something to be expected. He rarely voiced his feelings or showed them, which was the complete opposite to Dick. Dick liked to chat animatedly and when he wasn't plastering a grin on his face or laughing, he showed his pain openly and voiced almost every thought that popped into his head. He'd become accustomed to holding up two ends of a conversation since he'd moved in. Bruce had a busy duel life to juggle and Dick respected that. It was nice when he made time for his ward, though; it was a pleasant surprise, although Dick sometimes allowed a snarky voice in his head to say that it really shouldn't be so rare that it surprised him.

When he opened his laptop, he dived straight into the files Wally had sent him the previous night. While Wally had been talking almost non-stop when Dick had called him, the younger had made a note to messily write down anything of import. His sleep-riddled handwriting was hardly legible in the light of day, so he was thankful that the speedster had thought to send him any necessary files.

The situation, it seemed, was personal. The duel speedsters had been conveniently out-of-town last night, leaving Central City mostly unprotected. Someone had apparently taken this as an opportunity to execute what seemed like an insignificant kidnapping, at least until one looked more closely at the details. The boy kidnapped was named Adam Turner and was one of Wally's friends at school. He was as enthusiastic about science as Wally but was also a keen musician. From Wally's descriptions, he was one of those guys that everyone liked, purely because they were too nice to dislike. Wally had discovered about the kidnapping as soon as he got home; his parents had stayed up to tell him. The police had visited every person connected to Adam but had thus far found nothing. Adam had simply never returned home.

For Wally, this didn't feel like an accurate conclusion. Dick recalled a few minutes spent listening to the other as he recounted how he'd sneaked into Adam's house to check things out and how something had just seemed off. He couldn't quite pinpoint what exactly the cause of this feeling was, but he figured he'd wait for Robin so they could follow-up on the case when they weren't so sleep deprived.

Bruce entered his room shortly after he'd eaten and dressed, a loud knock on the door announcing his presence. His eyes flickered briefly over to the pile of still-wrapped presents before he turned to Dick, a rare smile curving his lips.

"Happy birthday, Dick."

"Thanks, Bruce," Dick replied, settling himself on the end of his bed.

"Alfred tells me you'll be occupied for a few hours," he said in a tone that clearly wanted an explanation without exactly being questioning.

"Yeah. Wally's asked for my help with something—a personal case. You—uh—you don't mind, do you?"

Bruce gave a slight shake of his head. "No, but don't overwork yourself. Our reservation is for six this evening and I thought that we could perhaps catch a movie afterwards." Dick gave a nod in agreement. Bruce walked over to the desk, a hand gliding over the neatly wrapped paper of one of the presents. "I picked this one out yesterday. I wasn't sure I'd be able to find it." Without further elaboration, he walked out, only briefly pausing to inform Dick of where he would be should his assistance or advice be required.

When the door clicked shut and the footsteps faded, Dick hopped off his bed and strode towards the present. His hands wavered in hesitation above it; he was curious but slightly anxious about what was hidden beneath. He hadn't been sure what he'd been expecting, but his eyes slowly widened as he tore the paper, gradually revealing the rather large poster. It was framed and behind glass, but Dick remembered it clearly. It had been the one he'd seen every day before moving to Gotham. The minimalist poster was something to be proud of; its simplistic design did wonders for the elegance of the Flying Graysons. Dick smiled wistfully down at it and tried not to get too caught up in memories.

Throughout the opening of his other presents, Dick couldn't help but look back at it.

ᴥᴥᴥ

In order to not attract any unwanted attention, Dick had to pack his Robin costume inside a suitable inconspicuous bag for his journey to Gotham's suburbs. The towns and smaller settlements scattered around Gotham's borders were mostly poorer than and just as crime-riddled as the main attraction, but no one so much as gave him a second glance as he traversed the streets. Alfred had driven him to Gotham's outskirts in the knowledge that should he encounter any trouble, Dick would be easily able to defend himself. It was funny how little people could recognise him without his gelled hair and blown-up arrogance.

Wally stood waiting for him on the corner of a street, tapping his foot restlessly in a blur. The duo locked eyes and Dick inclined his head towards the nearest alleyway. He followed Wally as the redhead lead on and adjusted his glasses as he walked.

"You're wearing your costume, right?" asked Dick, eyeing the other. He was clad in simple jeans and a sweatshirt, although neither looked as if they could withstand the force of a running speedster.

"Yup." As if to demonstrate, Wally pulled down the neck of his sweatshirt, revealing the bright yellow fabric underneath.

"Good, now turn around; I need to change." Dick crouched to the ground as he opened his backpack and glanced up to Wally at the other's hesitation. "What?"

"You're seriously gonna get undressed in a Gotham alley?"

"Well, you're gonna look out for me." He made a gesture with his hands, shooing Wally further towards the entrance to the alley. "Now turn."

Changing into his Robin costume efficiently in the dark was a much easier task that he'd anticipated. The only real difficulty he had was attaching his cape, which had somehow separated from his main shirt piece in the bag. He gave more than a few suspicious glances to either end of the alley as he reached to remove his glasses, even though he was facing a wall and would soon replace the eye-wear for his domino mask. He tapped the side of the mask and the whited lenses flickered into life.

He turned to Wally, who during the time had stripped himself of his civilian clothes and was left standing in his Kid Flash uniform. After securing the bag containing their clothes in a discreet location, Robin hopped onto Kid Flash's and within a second, they were gone.

Although it had been pre-planned, travelling like this was entirely disorientating. For Kid Flash, he assumed this just meant that his body could finally catch up with the pace his mind worked at. For Robin, he could only grip on for dear life and pray that the other didn't trip over. His eyes were protected by the mask but he'd instinctively closed them upon setting off. The wind blasted through his hair and the muffled noises of passing cities echoed in his ear, and he soon opened his eyes, mostly out of curiosity. The world passed as a blur, much too fast for Dick to process. It was astounding how Kid flash could keep up, let alone direct their travel. He leaned into his turns, accounted for Robin's additional weight, and slowed down just enough whenever he felt Robin's grip get almost painfully tight. It took a couple of minutes, but they'd figured out a comfortable position that did not render their speed too much; Robin laced his arms around Kid Flash's neck while his legs tucked in tightly by his sides. Kid Flash held the legs securely and Robin hoped that the fear of falling off would fade with experience.

Their arrival at Central City was punctuated by a slightly stumbled halt. Kid Flash skidded across the pavement and gravel sprayed up in his wake. They'd stopped at what looked like the back streets behind a row of houses, each with its own reasonably shambolic garage. Out of the corner of his eye, Robin spotted a stray strand of police tape caught on a branch of a nearby tree.

"This is where Adam lives," said Robin, deliberately using the present tense and not phrasing it as a question.

Kid Flash nodded, his lips set in a firm line. "Yeah. His house it that one." He raised a hand and pointed to the house second to the left. Without warning, Robin took his grappling hook from his belt and shot it at the roof, gliding up with ease. His elevated position gave him a clearer view into the house. The window which he assumed to be Adam's showed a room that was eerily disarrayed yet uninhabited. He looked down to Kid Flash and they shared a nod. Robin ran a hand carefully over the glass. It was not broken, although the tiniest of cracks ran along the bottom of it, as if it had been forcible opened with more care than most intruders bothered to give. Ensuring that he did no further damage to the window, Robin pried it open just enough to slip inside.

Kid Flash had confirmed previously that the family would not be in. Adam had no siblings and his parents worked long hours at their respective businesses. He still trod lightly and checked each corner before entering a new room or hallway, just in case. He found his way to the back door fairly quickly and picked the lock, allowing Kid Flash to enter.

"I thought you Flashes could vibrate through walls and door," Robin commented, throwing Kid Flash a smirk over his shoulder as they made their way to Adam's room.

A barely-there blush tainted Kid Flash's cheeks. "Flash can, I can't. I've tried but I just get a nosebleed." He scowled when Robin snorted in amusement and settled for sticking his tongue out to him in what was obviously a very mature manner.

Upon closer inspection, very little seemed ajar in Adam's room. There was almost no sign of a struggle and the evidence that could suggest a fight could also suggest just a very messy teenager. Kid Flash confirmed this query; he'd partnered with Adam multiple times during laboratory experiments and Adam had always been the one to leave equipment lying around and forgetting to put things away.

"KF, I need you to grab a map of Central City. We need to figure out any possible locations," Robin said in a low voice, trailing a hand over the layer of dust adorning Adam's bookcase. His eyes were narrowed behind the mask as he scrutinised his surroundings for any clues. He felt a gentle breeze and within a few seconds, Kid Flash had returned. He pushed the goggles onto his forehead and sat cross-legged on the floor, spreading the large map out before him.

"Can't he be anywhere, though?"

Robin raised his shoulders in a small shrug. "Possibly. It depends who the culprit is."

"But we don't know who took him."

"That would be why I'm looking." Something didn't seem right in the room; everything except the bookcase was in an unruly mess. "Wally, come here."

Kid Flash rose and approached the other, his head inclined in curiosity. "What? It's a bookcase."

"The dust has been disturbed in only one place," Robin pointed out, indicating to the lowest shelf. "Doesn't that seem a little odd?"

Kid Flash crouched to inspect the break in the dust, his brows pinched. It didn't look entirely natural—more like someone had rubbed away the dust just in front of one book. He pulled the book out, paid little attention to its cover, and flicked through it. A small piece of paper fell out, which Robin stooped to pick up. He held it up to the light to better see what it was.

"It's a playing card," he said, showing it to the other. "Well, part of one."

"Maybe he used it as a bookmark," suggested Kid Flash. It seemed entirely reasonable but Robin only replied with a shrug and a quiet 'maybe', before pocketing the card for later examination.

As they took a seat either side of the map, Robin brought up a holographic screen containing data from Central City's police department. This, combined with the little facts Kid Flash decided to throw in during their deductions, gave them a rough idea how and when Adam had disappeared. They'd circled a few of the more likely locations on the map. The possibility of him running away had been erased long ago so it could only be assumed that he'd been abducted. Ignoring the residence of the unknown kidnapper, the places circled so far were the warehouse district and the sewage system. Neither sounded particularly delightful but if this was a gang thing, then he'd most likely be there. It wasn't much and was based on more assumptions than Robin was entirely comfortable with, but it was a start.

"And he hates sports but loves watching them—especially British rugby," Kid Flash babbled, refolding the map carefully as not to tear it. "I can't remember which team he supports. It has some weird name like the Harlequins or something. "

Robin glanced up from his wrist computer at this, a hidden brow raised. It was most likely useless information, although anything was appreciated at this stage. "I'll work on this at home and let you know if I can find anything."

"Yeah, I'll go to the map places. Hopefully I'll find him." He raised his arms above his head as he stood, his back arching as he stretched. "We should probably get going. I don't know when his parents get back—"

"Shh," Robin hissed, a silence lulling between them. Just as he'd thought, Adam's parents had impeccable timing and were coming through the front door as they spoke. He raised a finger to his lips, indicating for Kid Flash to stay quiet, and walk over to the window. It opened easily and he slid through it, pausing on the windowsill so he could close it after them. Kid Flash held much less grace as he jumped, landed on the gravel below, and rolled to break his fall. Robin soon joined him, poised in a low crouch.

Kid Flash grinned to him and turned so his back was facing him. He braced himself for the impeding jump and made sure Robin's body fit snugly against his own before setting off.

He wouldn't admit it, although he felt no shame in it considering Gotham and it suburbs were unfamiliar territory, but he'd forgotten where'd they'd hidden their clothes. Luckily, though, Robin had anticipated this and when he assumed they were nearing his city, he began to speak quietly into Wally's ear, directing his movements among the streets.

They exchanged few words as Kid Flash kept guard over the alley whilst Robin changed. Robin assumed it must have been frustrating for the other to be so close to Robin's unguarded identity yet unable to do anything about it, even though it was mostly out of respect for his friend and fear of Batman. Robin had received countless attempts from the redhead to unveil his true self to him, although most had been more subtle than the first. Robin still refused but he had told Wally that he knew him as his true self anyway. Knowing him as anything other than Robin would not shatter any illusions, but merely set up another façade for him to go by.

"You done yet?" called Kid Flash. "I swear you're as slow as a girl getting dressed."

Robin didn't point out that Kid Flash considered everything to be slow. "Sorry, got distracted."

"I guess I'll—er—be going now." He raised a hand in a small wave before departing in a blur. He was back merely seconds later, his arms tight around Robin in what he assumed was a hug, and then darted off again.

ᴥᴥᴥ

The movie had been nothing spectacular although would doubtlessly win dozens of awards. The speeches were dramatic, the costumes bizarre, and the cinematography gave one the impression of being quite dizzy. Even so, Dick had enjoyed it; it was a change from running around on rooftops, though he'd most likely end up doing that tonight.

They'd had almost no wait at the Italian; Bruce had simply strolled up to the maître d', who had not even bothered to check the reservation list. Whispers sounded around them and some people even had the nerve to sneakily attempt to take photographs. Dick followed the other men hurriedly, having been distracted momentarily by his surroundings, and took the seat opposite Bruce. Their drinks were ordered quickly and they were left in privacy.

Their conversation mostly revolved around Dick's school life and Bruce's work. Dick was curious about Wayne Enterprises and tried to keep up with news about it, but it became awfully dull after a while. His school life wasn't particularly thrilling either; he achieved good grades and kept up the required social time with his friends, even though he was fairly sure that most of them just stayed around so they could be seen with Dick Grayson. Bruce asked how Barbara was, if he'd talked to Wally since this morning, and even made a sly joke about how he seemed to be developing a preference for redheads. Just as Dick was rolling his eyes and preparing to retaliate, a soft, repetitive tune started playing.

He fished his phone from his pocket and glanced up hesitantly to Bruce. With a muttered apology, he accepted the call and raised the phone to his hear. "Wally?"

"R-Robin, thank God." His voice was strained and echoed around him. Something was evidently wrong.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Adam—he's _dead_, Rob. The guys who got him, they were wearing masks—I couldn't see their faces. They got me. I can't vibrate out of it. The sewers, Rob, you've gotta help me. It's gonna blow."

Dick's eyes widened. His gaze flickered around the place, calculating the quickest route out. There was silence from the other end and he noticed that Wally had hung up, or someone had hung up for him.

"Bruce, I have to go."

"You're not going," he said softly, although the words were anything but kind.

"How do you—yes I am."

"Richard, sit down. It's a trap."

* * *

A/N- So I got distracted because I finally got my AO3 account. You'll never guess what the username is (hint: it's I_mNotYourEnemy).


	8. Part Eight

**Blossoming of a Friendship**

**Part Eight**

_21st March 2009_

The drive home had been filled with a silence so tense it was almost tangible. Their meal had been left, with a brief apology, half-eaten on the table. Dick had argued his case in progressively angered whispers admirably but nothing could wear away at Bruce's resolve. He had decided to take this 'discussion' home, away from prying ears. It would be unwise of them to argue over their nightly duties in public when they worked so hard to maintain their hidden identities.

Alfred didn't comment on the evident tension within the car and merely questioned their destination before setting off. Dick, true to any irritated pre-pubescent child, sat by the window and refused to look away from the blurred scenery. He knew that he would only get himself wound up if he initiated the argument again. He had his beliefs, Bruce had his. The only problem was where they conflicted and how they dealt with said confliction.

Bruce argued with a chilling serenity that conveyed his point while reducing his opponent to stuttered apologies. This was completely contrasted by Dick, who delved into debates with wild gestures and raised voices. His approach, while dramatic, was often not very effective, which explained why he seldom won arguments against Bruce. He had built up some sort of immunity to the majority of Bruce's intimidations, so he could withstand his toughest glare and sternest voice and still defy him with a steady gaze. This time, though, Bruce was silent. It was unnerving at best and made worse by the fact that Dick knew he was logically right. Dick didn't want to do the right thing, though. He wanted to save his friend.

When the car pulled into the manor's driveway, both males exited the car quickly and held the silence as they ascended the steps up to the main door. It wasn't until Dick made a beeline for the Batcave that the silence was broken.

"Not down there."

Dick paused, his shoulders rising in a long-drawn sigh, and turned on his heel. "Sorry?"

"You're not going to the Batcave. I know Wally's important to you but there are certain procedures that will ensure his safety."

"And why do these procedures not involve me going with you?"

Bruce met Dick's eyes, which were ablaze with passion. "I've examined the evidence you've given me and come to the obvious conclusion which I'm frankly embarrassed you didn't achieve yourself."

"—What?"

Bruce pulled a small, clear bag from the inside of his jacket. It was labelled in Dick's messy scrawl and had been handed to the man over dinner, just after receiving Wally's call. "I had it analysed in the car, which you would've noticed had you been paying attention. Joker evidently wants to be noticed."

Dick stared, bewildered by this information. "But—why would Joker be in Central City?"

"I don't know. I do know, however, that you're not coming with me. I'll contact the Justice League and keep you updated." It was obvious from his tone that this was not to be debated—not that Dick paid any mind to that. Ignoring Bruce's silent command to stay put, he followed him down to the Batcave eagerly.

"So I can't come because I didn't have a load of analytical equipment with me?" Dick asked, hopping onto a desk.

"No," Bruce replied as he opened the display containing his costume. "You're not coming because what you did was reckless and foolish. You sent Kid Flash off without telling anyone about the potential danger he could be in. He trusted you and you weren't informed enough to give a professional opinion."

The playful smile that had been lingering on the younger's lips vanished. "… Oh. I—you're right. I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to impress Wally." His voice was quiet and his shoulders hunched.

Bruce strode over to him and used a finger to tilt his chin up. "You're also not coming because I can't risk losing you. I don't know what Joker's after. I know you've fought him before but I'm not putting you in unnecessary danger."

Dick didn't bother pointing out the oddity of that statement. He was placed in danger on an almost daily basis.

They continued the usual routine for missions, only with Dick out of costume. They contacted the Justice League, sent co-ordinates to the Flash, and made sure all involved were suitably informed. It was to be a simple rescue mission, avoiding most violence where possible. The identity of the kidnapper was not fully-known, although many knew who the main suspect was. Finding Joker's fingerprints on a card extracted from a crime scene was pretty flimsy evidence, but Joker had never been one to leave a solid trail. Bruce didn't doubt it was beyond him to murder an innocent schoolboy just to simply get attention.

"He's been quiet for too long," Batman said, his voice gruff.

"Well, go get him and lock him back up in Arkham," Dick answered from him position, curled up in front of the computer. A blanket had been draped over his shoulders and a slice of birthday cake lay mostly-eaten on his plate.

"I'll be back soon enough. If I'm not home before midnight, enjoy the rest of your birthday." And in true Batman-style, he disappeared in the blink of an eye.

There were several moments where the only sounds were the dull whirring of machinery and the soft chewing of cake. Alfred joined Dick and gave him a pointed look.

"Should I bother trying to confine you to your room?"

Dick grinned impishly. "Nope."

With an exasperated sigh that came with living with superheroes, Alfred said, "I'll turn the manor security onto high. It won't take you long but at least I can say that I tried."

ᴥᴥᴥ

It was times like these that Dick was thankful for Bruce's money. The spare jet was rarely used as Bruce tended to favour his recent upgraded version, and was kept in a far corner of the cave next to the other spare vehicles. Dick pulled the sheet off it in a sweeping motion and took a moment to be glad of its impeccable condition. Tonight, though, it would take him to Central City, hopefully to help with Wally. His position had been tracked via signals from the phone he'd used, but there was no telling where he could've moved to. For all Dick knew he could be—

No.

He wasn't going to think about that.

Hopefully this entire situation would be solved by the Flash and Dick's interference would be entirely unnecessary. It made him feel better, though. He couldn't bear the thought of sitting at home alone, waiting for news that may never come. He had to do something. He had to help.

Tracking Wally's location was more than easy. Intercepting the Justice League's transmissions was a matter of child's play and all he could do now was guide the jet to the sky and engage the camouflage filters. He urged it to go faster, even when at top speed. He'd never before loathed his lack of superpowers; they hadn't been a hindrance in saving someone before.

He could hear what various Leaguers were saying to one another through the radio. Flash's distinctly worried tone rambled on and Batman's orders cut clearly through the other voices. Wally had been taken to a different section of the sewers—a section that was set for demolition. It was beyond unstable and practically inaccessible. Few members were available and all there were focusing their efforts on containing the situation. The general public had yet to be alerted but the authorities were fully aware of the situation. There wasn't much they could do, though. One wrong move, and the sewers would collapse or blow. One wrong move, and Wally would be dead.

The jet was far from inconspicuous but it was small and surprisingly quiet. Robin landed on a roof near to the sewers and rushed through disengaging the engines and securing the jet. The roof opened with a hiss and he jumped out, eager to find out what was going on for himself. He stayed out of view for the most part, avoiding being spotted by civilians and heroes alike. He crouched behind vans and hid by fences, and tried to eavesdrop as best he could.

"I heard there's a kid in there," one woman said to her friend.

"Me too," agreed the other. "I don't get why they're not saving him."

"Something about the sewers. I think they're the ones that're set to blow next week."

Dick slunk away from the gathering crowd that had been attracted by the various sirens and costume-clad heroes. No one was doing anything. Why wasn't anyone doing anything? Bruce said that his emotions would lead to the situation becoming compromised, but at least he was willing to_ do something_.

"Come on, Grayson, you can figure this out," he mumbled to himself.

Then, as he planned to make his next move, there was a pure, terrified scream.

All havoc broke loose. People rushed, panicked by the turn of events and confused; heroes sprung into action, shielding innocents and fending off attackers; policemen drew their guns, aiming at the people running towards them, each grinning like maniacs. They were the source of the panic. They were each clothed in matching overalls with a company logo branded onto the back. From what Dick could tell, they were the demolition team assigned to the Central City sewers, but evidently things hadn't gone to plan. Their skin was a sickly, pale white and their faces contorted painfully into wide, teeth-baring grins. They ran forwards, guns held loosely in their hands and some falling as bullet pierced their chests. Their eyes were glazed over, as if all self-consciousness had left them.

While they were engaged, Robin ran through them.

His feet splashed as he ran through the entrance to the sewers and he didn't spare a glance behind him. The continued shouts were confirmation enough. He needn't seek for visual confirmation to know how badly the situation was going. All he had to do was make sure Wally wasn't another casualty. He would only have to find him and they could superspeed out.

But things were never that easy.

His eyes quickly adjusted to the dark. The silence was eerie and all surrounding. He'd gone so far that he could no longer hear anything from outside; the only sounds to accompany him were his own breaths and a faint dripping. He pulled up his holographic computer, searching desperately for any indication of Wally's exact location. There was none. That was okay, though. Robin knew how Joker worked. He was psychotic and maniacal, but he had a way of doing things. He wasn't predictable, he was never predictable, but he liked things to be a certain way. He would be at the centre; he always was. He would draw Robin to the middle of the maze and then do God-knows-what to him. But Robin wouldn't let him. He wasn't scared. He wasn't.

He walked.

He didn't run; running would only make his presence obvious, as he couldn't silence his footsteps in the shallow water. Each movement echoed around the walls and a single slip could cost him his life.

The map glowed blue and Robin watched as his small red dot neared the centre of the tunnels. The sewers were set out logically; it wouldn't be hard to escape. If need's be, he could easily collapse the tunnels during his escape.

He swallowed thickly. He was nearly there. One—no, two more turns and he would be there. With a brief flash of common sense, he sent a message to the Justice League, the ones assembled outside. Bruce would be angry—he always was—but Dick would be a hero. He would save Wally and prove himself beyond all reasonable doubt. He wasn't reckless. He didn't need powers. He could do this.

He feigned determination and walked around the corner. He would make this situation his and play all faults to his advantage. His mind was steeled and his muscles tense, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. But nothing came. There were no bullets ricocheting off the tunnel walls, no screams of indignations, no exclamations of glee at Robin's arrival. Nothing.

Then, there was a wheezing sound. The light from his wrist alleviating the space from darkness, Robin could see a hunched figure in the centre of the 'room'. With a quick scan around the perimeter to ensure that there were indeed no hidden dangers, Robin ran to the person. Kid Flash's costume lay in tatters on his skin, torn and ripped and stained red where it had previously been yellow. There were mostly healed wound marring his skin, nearly all of them looking as if he'd been sliced by a butcher's knife. He was curled on his side with his knees pulled up to his chest. His shoulders rose in shaky breaths and his eyes were scrunched tight. He started when Robin shook him awake.

"Wha—Rob?" he croaked, blinking blearily up at him.

Robin's lips spread in his most convincing smile. "Hey, Kid Mouth. How'd the mission go?"

He set to work on untying Wally's binds as he replied, "Not so great."

"Hmm," Robin sounded. "Shame."

Footsteps echoed from a branching tunnel and Kid Flash froze.

"Shh," Robin whispered. "Just stay calm."

He pulled Kid Flash unsteadily to his feet and drew them both back into the shadows. The footsteps continued at a steady pace, becoming increasingly louder with each sound. There was a gunshot and they ceased. A crazed laugh seemed to come from everywhere and there was a sudden, blinding light. Robin shielded his eyes and blinked furiously, clearing the black spots from his vision.

"Well, well, well," said a voice that he knew all too well. "Looky here, I've trapped a little birdy."

Robin's eyes came back into focus and a gloved hand grabbed him by the arm, ripping him forwards. The Joker was wearing the demolition uniform but blood was smeared across it in various places. He leaned forwards, looming over Robin.

"I wonder how much Batsy would give to free his sidekick. Didn't anyone tell you not to meddle in grown-up business?" he asked, wagging his finger in a sick imitation of a scolding mother.

Kid Flash zipped forwards and was by Robin's side instantly. "Go fuck yourself."

There was a sickening crack and Kid Flash fell in a heap against the floor. Joker flexed his hand and stretched his fingers, sighing in mock-disappointment. "You brats should respect your elders."

Robin crouched by Kid Flash's fallen form, almost shielding him from view. "What do you want?"

Dick had been lectured endlessly on how to deal with people like the Joker. They could be reasoned with if you played by their skewed logic, or you could defeat them by force. The force usually ended in multiple casualties because for them, the more the better. It didn't matter if the victims were innocent or unplanned; killing was simply a game. The more you killed, the higher your score, but Dick wouldn't let there be any deaths.

"I was hoping to meet with some grown-up friends but you boys will do just fine." He grinned menacingly and pulled out a small box from the inside of his overalls. It had only a red button on it and a small wire protruding from the top of it. He extended the wire and said, "How about a little game of hide and seek? You boys run, this place goes boom, and then everyone has to seek for your bodies! I'll even give you a head start."

Robin's heart raced. He wasted no time pulling Kid Flash to his feet. They were through the tunnels within seconds, their feet slapping against the water loudly.

"Is he seriously gonna do this?" Kid Flash asked.

"I have no idea but I'm not waiting to find out."

Kid flash grabbed Robin's shoulder and pulled him to a stop. Robin, understanding where this was going, moved to hop onto Kid Flash's back, and they were gone. Robin murmured directions into Kid Flash's ear, desperately trying to recall his route in. They took several wrong turns but Kid Flash's speed made up for it.

"Why did I have to make friends with the guy with psychopath enemies?"

"Wally! There!" Robin pointed ahead, where a stream of light illuminated the tunnel. Kid Flash ran.

He set Robin down the moment they were outside, his muscles aching and protesting his every move. He looked over to his friend, a relieved smile curving his lips. Robin smiled back, and then there was a deafening blast.

ᴥᴥᴥ

_26th March 2009_

Dick had certainly had more pleasurable wakings. His ears rang, his head ached, and his body felt numb. He was stretched out on a familiar bed with various machines to the side of him. He stared over at them until his mind managed to catch up and understand what was going on.

He was home.

He sat up and a pain shot through his back. With a groan, he collapsed back against the mattress and buried his head into his pillow.

"Good evening, Master Dick."

Dick cracked an eye open. He hadn't noticed the other men before. Alfred stood by the machines, jotting down various numbers and fiddling with a few dials. Bruce sat at the foot of his bed. He was paler than usual and had stitches sewn across an eyebrow. His expression was cryptic and indecipherable.

"Hey."

Bruce's shoulders relaxed and he slouched slightly in his position. His eyes were still guarded but there was an element of relief in them. "Richard. What were you thinking?"

"I... wasn't?" he offered in reply.

"Are you able to feel your toes?" Alfred asked, interrupting any conversation that may have spiralled from there. Dick focused for a moment, wiggled his toes, and then nodded. "Good. There are a few fractured bones but nothing worse than our initial diagnosis. His body just needs time to combat the shock it's been through."

"Skiing accident?" Dick asked, smirking lazily.

"Your classmates send their condolences."

Alfred left the room with a slight bow. Dick gulped and looked anywhere but at Bruce.

"Dick." The voice was softer than he'd expected. He'd thought he'd be dead by now; death by Bats was hardly something to look forwards to but Dick assumed he deserved it after breaking so many rules and disregarding a multitude of orders. "Richard, look at me."

Blue met blue and Dick shifted slightly in his bed.

"Do you feel okay?"

"I feel kind of like I got run over by an elephant, but aside from that, yeah."

Bruce stared at him, evidently unamused. His eyes were piercing, as if searching for the truth. "I won't shout at you. You know what you did. You know what I told you to do. You're off patrol for the month and I expect you to be on best behaviour when you return."

Dick didn't answer for several minutes. The time dragged on in silence as both males allowed the conversation to lull into nothing. Dick couldn't quite believe his luck; not only was he still alive, his punishment was practically minute. All he had to do now was piece fractured memories together to figure out what he was apologising for.

His brows furrowed and he turned his head to the side. He could see the garden beyond his window, though the sky was darkening quickly. Soon enough it would be night and Dick would no doubt fall unconscious again. He was already struggling to stay awake.

"Bruce... did—did Wally make it?"

Bruce nodded stiffly. "You saved him. He's okay. His accelerated healing cleared up any injuries days ago and he's been asking to see you."

"... And?"

Bruce looked at him as if the answer was obvious. "He can't, for security reasons."

"Oh. Right. Uh, what happened?"

Bruce placed a hand on his knee and smoothed out any creases in the fabric. "The Joker was intending to destroy Central City's infrastructure. He wanted the Flash to save Wally so his speed would bring down the sewers before he blew it up. We pre-empted this so kept him out. It's why he killed Wally's friend. It's a strange and somewhat vague connection, but it worked." He exhaled a shallow sigh. "The demolition team are dead. It was a necessary sacrifice, though mostly caused by the CCPD. Then you ran in. The explosion was contained through force fields but you and Wally were trapped inside it. Joker's in hospital—third degree burns. He's being transferred to Arkham tomorrow."

"How long was I out?" Dick asked.

"Five days. We weren't sure you'd wake up."

Bruce's haggard looks and the bags under his eyes suddenly made sense now. "How long have you been here?"

"I haven't left your side."

Dick smiled hesitantly, touched by the gesture. "This isn't over, is it?"

"It's never over," Bruce replied. "But sleep for now. You need it."

Dick nodded and settled further back into the cushions, revelling in the softness and comfort. His eyes closed and within moments, he was dreaming of jesters and circuses and smiling speedsters. Everything would be okay.


	9. Part Nine

**Blossoming of a Friendship**

**Part Nine**

_5th April 2009_

The door to the West household opened and Wally stumbled inside, his arms heavy with grocery bags.

"Mom! I'm home," he called as he made his way to the kitchen at an agonisingly slow rate. He would've used his speed had he not been fearful of the bags breaking and their contents spilling to the floor. "Mom?"

There was no reply. Initially he'd assumed that his mother had simply not heard him; perhaps she was busy upstairs or too enthralled by her latest sitcom to notice his arrival. After depositing the bags on the kitchen counter, he made a quick round through the has to confirm that yes, he was alone. There was no note stuck to the fridge and no indication that they planned on leaving, but Wally wasn't too worried. He would know if something was wrong. Probably.

When he entered the kitchen again, he picked up one of the bags and began placing the items in their correct places, following the motions that had been long-since ingrained into his memory. He opened the fridge, put the butter in its space, and froze, realisation heavy on his mind. He hung his head forwards and groaned.

"Urgh, I forgot the—"

"Milk?"

Wally jumped violently and spun around, his eyes wide with fear. "Dude, you almost gave me a freaking heart attack!"

Robin grinned from the counter. He was sitting by the other bags and dressed in casual clothes. His jeans were much thinner than anything Wally owned and the drawstrings of his hoodie were uneven. His usual sunglasses were perched on his nose; his ever present attempt at hiding his identity. His entrance to the kitchen gone undetected, as expected, and Wally thought that he really should get used to being scared by the younger. He managed to move with eerily silent and swift motions, which made Wally, with all his clumsiness, somewhat jealous.

"Nice to see you too," Robin replied, and Wally liked to think that he rolled his eyes.

"I'm glad you're okay," Wally said, closing the fridge door and leaning against it. "Batman wouldn't let me see you. I asked, though. A lot. I think he got a little annoyed. Does he—"

"He doesn't blame you," interrupted Robin. "Neither do I."

"Oh. Okay. That's good."

An uncomfortable silence hung between them but neither moved to break it. Wally went back to putting the groceries away and wondering whether Robin was responsible for his parents' spontaneous disappearance. Maybe he'd wanted to talk to Wally alone without the risk of civilians overhearing their conversation.

"So," he started once he closed the last cupboard, "what happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"With the explosion. No one's really told me much; I haven't been on duty since then. I healed pretty fast but Flash said I have to sit out for a while. I don't know if that's a good thing or a punishment."

"Maybe both." Robin hopped down from the counter and took a few steps towards the redhead. "You remember the Ivy attack, right? At the Wayne ball? Well, apparently she told a few of her villain-buddies about our—how did she put it? Blossoming friendship. And, yeah. I think Joker knew I'd go in. We're not really sure, though."

Wally frowned. "But why did he get me? He's the Bat's enemy, not mine."

Robin's shoulders rose in a small shrug. "Change of scenery? Honestly, I've read all the reports and your guess is as good as mine. I've got a couple of theories, though."

"Well, that's good enough for me." He walked towards the door to the kitchen and stood by it, motioning for the other to go through. "You remember the way to my room?"

Wally's room was as chaotic as ever but he didn't move to clean it. With his speed, it could be spotless within seconds, but he knew that Robin didn't mind the mess. They were comfortable enough in each other's presence for it not to be necessary. Robin spent a moment eyeing the new addition to Wally's poster collection. It was a minimalist piece consisting of red, green, and yellow with his own silhouette and R logo artfully crafted around the colours.

Once settled on Wally's bed—Wally on his stomach with his chin propped atop his fist and Robin sat cross-legged beside him—Robin expanded on his earlier statement. "My first guess is that Joker didn't know about me at all and just wanted to cause some trouble. He tracked Flash through you and you through Adam. I know if he was alone. Maybe someone kidnapped Adam and Joker took over from there, or maybe the two events are completely unrelated."

"I guess that would make sense," Wally commented. "Sewers set for demolition must be like a siren's call for psychos. I could'a just been in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Or," said Robin, "he could've known. Which brings me back to what I said earlier. Maybe he wanted to expand his list of enemies or something, and decided to start with easy prey. You said you were captured when something tripped you at full-speed, right?" Wally nodded. "That could've been anyone but what if Joker knew about us? Maybe he thought that by catching you, he'd attract my attention, and then Batman's, and then the Justice League's."

Wally sighed and closed his eyes, letting his head drop to the covers. He then rolled onto over and stretched his arms above his head as he arched his back off the mattress. "I dunno. It all seems a little far-fetched. He's been interrogated, right?"

Robin nodded and said, "Yeah, but I'm still working on decrypting those files."

"Oh. I guess all that matters is that we're okay." He paused and cracked an eye open. "We are okay, right?"

Robin grinned and moved to join Wally as he spread himself out beside him. "Course we are. You're my best friend, right? What's a friendship without a few explosions?"

"I think I might use that as my new motto for life," Wally said through his laughter. Robin joined him with childish chuckles of his own. "So, have I missed any gossip in the super-world?"

"I wouldn't know. I got benched too and Batman isn't much of a gossip."

"You just shattered all my dreams," Wally replied in mock-surprise. "But seriously, you too? Man, I'm so—"

"Don't apologise," Robin said quietly. "It was my fault, not yours."

Wally stared at him for a moment, unable to decipher the tone he had used. With a small shrug, he continued, "So the hero community know we're friends and stuff?"

Robin gave a soft laugh under his breath. "Neither of us are subtle and it's not like we were hiding anything to start with."

"True," Wally agreed as he turned onto his side. "But I don't even know your name."

Robin mirrored his actions. With a slight hesitation, he raised his hand to his glasses and pulled them away from his face. His pupils contracted as they adjusted to the light and Wally found himself confirming that Robin hadn't lied to him when he'd asked about his eyes all those months ago. He stayed silent as Robin folded the glasses and placed them on the beside table. He returned Wally's gaze steadily, the barest hint of a smile playing about his lips.

"Dick Grayson. Nice to meet'cha."

Wally could help but snigger, which earned him a whack to the head.

"It's short for Richard, asshole."

"Sorry," Wally said, steadying his breaths. He pushed himself up from the bed and sat with his legs folded beneath him. Yet again, Dick followed his lead so they ended up in mirrored positions, their knees touching slightly. "Wally West," he said, holding out a hand.

"I know that," Dick replied, but took the hand anyway. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister West."

"The pleasure is all mine, Mister Grayson."

They dissolved into a fit of giggles afterwards.

ᴥᴥᴥ

**Epilogue**

_9th June 2023_

Nightwing's movements were punctuated by muted footsteps and the occasional graceful leap. Maneuvering about rooftops was second nature to him; he no longer feared falling. There were few people around Blüdhaven at this time of night—or, well, morning—which made it the perfect playground for superheroes.

He ran hard and fast with no particular destination in mind. It was a warm night and his hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat. Some of it dangled into his eyes and reminded him that he really needed a haircut. The air was rancid with pollution and humidity but he'd grown used to it over the years. He was on home-ground; it gave him the advantage.

His duties as Nightwing, both to his city and to his family, had ended hours ago. His uneventful nightly patrol left him with a sizzling energy but limited outputs with which to rid himself of it. Luckily, though, his friends were as insane as he was and one redhead in particular always agreed to Nightwing's plans, regardless of the hour.

"Marco!"

Nightwing laughed loudly, the sound echoing about the air. "Polo!"

It was a modified and somewhat silly game; they were essentially playing a game meant for water but on land, and with more speed and acrobatics.

A red blur zipped past Nightwing on the streets below and halted just before it collided with a wall. Flash had his head turned upwards, trying to peer around the cloth over his eyes. "You're on the roofs, aren't you? Man, that's not fair!"

"Says the guy with the superpowers," Nightwing quipped, leaping from his crouched position on the ledge. He quickly dodged Wally's attempt to tag him. Even through years of training, speed hadn't yet equated to grace or agility for the speedster. "Missed me."

Wally grinned and then pounced at Nightwing, who didn't bother avoiding the attack. They fell to the ground heavily, their combined weight winding the younger of the two. Flash tore his blindfold off with a laugh and sat on Nightwing's chest. "Got'cha."

"Dude, get your heavy ass off me."

"Make me."

Which he did. Nightwing flipped their positions and did a curious motion which somehow left Wally sprawled out on the ground whilst he ascended smoothly to his feet, a victorious smirk curving his lips.

Wally groaned. "I forgot you could do that."

Another laugh sounded and Dick held a hand out to the other. "Come on. Pizza's on me tonight."

"Oh, Dick," Wally said as he took the hand, his voice sickeningly high. "You do know how to capture my heart."

"You're a massive dork."

"I learned from the best."

They walked through the abandoned alleyways, banter bouncing easily between them. The night had progressed so far that the sun was beginning to rise, but neither man cared. They would talk well into the morning and only part at the very last moment. Adulthood had brought new responsibilities for each of them, none of which seemed to agree with their strong friendship. Wally had the Justice League; Dick had his brothers and his city. Time was limited and would not stop for either of them, regardless of how much they prayed it to. They made it work, though. They always would. After all, this was not the end.

* * *

A/N- Except it is. Surprise!

So, this thing is over because this seemed like a nice place to end it. Fear not! I have my next multi-chapter fic planned and partially written. For now, though, I hope you enjoyed this.


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